Decisions and Disasters
by HappyPlaces
Summary: Sequel to Twelve and One Half, still as Ranger sees it
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own them, Janet Evanovich does. I'm getting nothing out of this except the satisfaction of Ranger ending up with Stephanie._

_Spoiler Warning: All books, but especially Twelve Sharp._

_When & Where: This is the sequel to Twelve and One Half, still inside Ranger's head and his life._

_Rating: PG – R for violence and language._

_Ten days before Stephanie's birthday…_

Just about a year ago, I got shot by a nut job named Scrog. He wanted to be me. One of the first things he did was to steal my identity. Then he kidnapped my daughter. Last but not least, he set his sights on Stephanie Plum. That was his biggest mistake.

Not for the reasons he might have thought, either. The woman is, admittedly, one of a kind. She's a little crazy. She's a lot of independent. She's Wonder Woman, Bat Girl, and Cat Woman all rolled into one. She's a powerful force of nature. She's unstoppable. She's a handful, to say the least.

This past year, my life has been filled with Stephanie. While I was cooling my heels in the hospital, she told Morelli she loved him. He sent her to me, thinking she'd get me out of her system and settle down with him. That was _his _mistake.

I'm a mercenary. I'm cool, calculating, opportunistic, driven and relentless. I'm also no dummy. Which is why, when she arrived on my doorstep bearing cake and flowers the day I got out of the hospital, I kept her. We live together. We work together. We love together. We fly together.

That being said, there are days she scares the shit out of me. There are days I want to strangle her. There are days she drives me crazy. There are days she terrifies me. There are days I want to hold her and kiss her and make it all better.. Today is all of those days rolled into one, and it's not even nine a. m. yet.

She and Hector left to pick up a skip at seven. We had good Intel that the guy was in his girlfriend's fifth floor apartment, sleeping off last night's excesses. It was half right; he was there. He wasn't impaired, though. He jumped out a window and started down the fire escape. Steph went after him. Because it was her and not Hector out there, the fire escape collapsed under the combined weight of Steph and the skip. The skip fell four stories. He's being loaded into an ambulance right now.

The good news: Steph didn't fall. The bad news: her utility belt is caught somehow and we can't get her down easily. Because it is Steph hanging on the side of the building, there isn't a utility truck or fire truck available to get her down for at least another hour. So, Hector is leaning out a window, holding onto her for all he's worth, in case the belt breaks. I'm leaning out the window, Tank holding my ankles, trying to get the fucking belt loose. Normally, I'd cut it, but I can't do that without cutting her, because of the way it's caught and digging into her skin. I can't see where the belt is caught. There's no slack. I have no leverage to gain any slack, even with Hector's help.

I'm ready to scream.

I look at her. She's not crying. She's stopped cursing. I can see the beginnings of panic in her eyes.

I smile. "You okay, Babe?"

"Just great," she says through her teeth. "Any chance of you getting me out of here today?"

"Workin' on it, Babe."

"Work faster. I want to be out of here before any reporters show up."

Hell. To tell her or not to tell her? "Little late for that."

A grimace. "My mother is going to kill me."

"I'll protect you." She smiles at me.

I hear a beep, indicating that I have an incoming cell call. It had better be good news – like a cherry picker capable of reaching her. I reach up and press the button to activate the wireless earpiece. "Yo."

"We're on the roof. Bobby's gearing up. Should be less than five minutes."

"Thanks Lester." I disconnect.

"Good news, Babe."

"My mother's gone blind and deaf?"

"No. Lester and Bobby are on the roof. Bobby's coming down and we'll have you loose in a few minutes." I hope.

"Thank God." I agree. "I think my arms are a few inches longer than when they started this morning." That earns her one of my best smiles.

I hear Bobby calling to me. I look up. "Here comes Bobby, Babe. I'm going to go back inside so he can reach you." A nod from her. I kiss her head. Tank pulls me back in the window. I take over for Hector, who's been holding onto her for at least an hour now.

Bobby looks at the belt and starts turning Steph a little, looking at the belt and what it's caught in. With each movement, Steph looks down. Now she's making small, panicked noises. Bobby is trying desperately to free her before she loses it. He tries lifting her, then pulling her toward him. Neither works.

"How the fuck did you do this, Baby?" Bobby has found out how the belt is caught.

"I fell. This only happened because it's me, you know. Hector wouldn't have fallen." Her voice has taken on a slightly hysterical edge.

"Babe." It's a command and she knows it. She looks up at me. Her eyes are panicked now, and filled with tears. Shit. I hate when she cries. "You're okay, Babe. I've got you, and you know damned well I'm not letting go."

She nods. "I know you won't drop me."

I use Hector's Trick, as I've come to think of it. Softly spoken Spanish. Telling her everything would be fine. I won't ever let her go. I love her. We'll get her out of this soon, and I'll take her home. I'll have Ella bring pineapple upside down cake. She doesn't understand most of what I'm saying, but it doesn't matter. I can see her relaxing. Her breathing slows and becomes controlled. Her eyes clear, never leaving mine. Thank you for teaching me that trick, Hector.

"Lift her a little, Ranger." Bobby's eyes are focused on something I can't see. I lift a little, meeting resistance almost as soon as she moves up the lightest bit.

With the flash of a knife, she's free and I pull her inside. Her feet never hit the floor because I lift her into my arms. Her head hits my chest and her eyes close. Relief flows through me.

Bobby climbs in the window and hands Hector her mutilated belt. "How'd that happen?"

Hector was shaking his head. "I saw it happen, and I can't figure it out."

"I tripped," comes a small voice from the vicinity of my chest. The four of us look down at her. "I tripped when the landing shifted. I hit the wall. When the rest of the fire escape fell, I stayed stuck to the wall."

"I told you I should have gone out the window." Hector's shaking his head and smiling.

"You're supposed to throw people out the window, not chase them out. Didn't I teach you anything?" Tank asks with a grin. He leans over and ruffles her hair.

"I got nothing." Bobby shakes his head. "She got the belt twisted around the only anchor that held. I don't think I want to know how that happened. It was wrapped so tight it was cutting into her skin."

I shift her, trying to see if the belt broke the skin or not. Sure enough, the back of her shirt is soaking up blood. I set her down on the floor and crouch next to her so I can assess the injury. Ouch. That's got to hurt. Deep scrapes and gouges where the belt cut in under her ribs. And that looks like...

"Christ, Bobby you cut her!" Bobby turns white. Hector turns on him.

"Oh shit! I thought I had enough space! Oh fuck." He's on his knees next to me, rummaging through his pockets for some gauze pads. "I'm so sorry Baby."

"Bobby. Shut. Up." He shuts up. I've noticed that the guys really scramble to obey when she uses that tone of voice. "It's okay. Better cut than crushed. And I'm back on solid ground. That's all I care about."

Bobby regains some color. Hector relaxes. From the corner of my eye, I see Tank relax. Jesus, it's not just me she's got tied up in knots on days like this. It's all of us. And not one of us complains. Not one of us would have it any other way. She's given every last one of us something of herself in the past year. There's nothing we won't do for her. I top the list of people who will do anything for her, but Hector's damned close.

I shake my head.

Lester shows up as I'm pulling her shirt off. "Free show?"

"Fuck you, Santos." Apparently, none of today's injuries are affecting her mouth.

Hector produces enough gauze pads and cling to clean her up and bandage her. Bobby strips off his shirt and hands it over. "Here. Put this on. Your shirt needs a wash."

"Thanks." I help her get the shirt on. She winces. "Ouch!"

I look at her. She's short of breath. I run my hands over her ribs. She winces, sucks in some air, then she gasps for more. I sigh. She looks at me. "NO! Oh, no! It's bad enough I'm going to make the news at noon. No way."

"Yes."

"No!"

I end the argument by scooping her off the floor and handing her to Hector. I grab Steph's shirt and the remains of the utility belt with her gear and we all head for the parking lot. I get into the Navigator behind the wheel. Hector gets into the passenger seat, Steph in his lap. She tries to struggle but gives up after about two seconds. I drive us to the emergency room at Trenton General.

The increase in her bond range has brought a subsequent increase in accidents. This means that we make more frequent trips to the ER. Everyone in every ER in the city knows us by now. It embarrasses Steph. She gripes at Hector and me all the way there. "I told you this would happen. I warned you that I would embarrass you all. And now, I'm going to be banned from dessert for life! Can't you just take me home, Ranger?" I can see her pouting from the corner of my eye.

I shake my head. "Not this time, Babe. Let's have some x-rays done of your ribs and see if you need stitches."

"Stitches?" Should have known she'd latch onto that one.

"Um, yeah. Some of those scrapes are deep." No point in telling her she's got a three inch long gash from Bobby that's leaked blood through all the gauze pads, the cling, Bobby's shirt, and is now soaking into Hector's uniform. She'll only get more upset.

Hector carries her in while I park the SUV. She's already got a bed by the time I get inside. She's laying on her side while a nurse looks over the cut on her back. I get a smirk from the nurse, along with a head shake.

"Been a while, guys." She's right. We haven't been here in four months.

A doctor orders up x-rays. Nothing broken. Just the cut, and the usual bruises and scrapes. Thank God. A local anesthetic is injected. He stitches her up, gives her a shot of who-knows-what, hands over a stack of paperwork with a prescription for pain meds on top, gives instructions for a follow-up appointment, and we're on our way. It's my turn to ride shotgun with Steph in my lap. I love holding her. She snuggles into my chest, with her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her tightly, careful not to brush against the stitches or other injuries.

We swing by the pharmacy on the way home for the pain meds. Hector grabs a bag of mini candy bars to placate her. By the time we're back at Haywood, she's asleep. She can sleep anywhere, anytime, and through just about anything. It's one of her many gifts.

I stop by the control room with her on the way to our apartment. I'll never hear the end of it if I don't give everyone a chance to look her over and see for themselves that she's okay. As soon as I walk in the room, Bobby takes her from me. He looks like he's feeling really guilty. Tank takes her from him with a dirty look. She's handed over to Lester next. Hal is a little afraid of her, so Junior holds her while they both inspect her. Cal's next in line. When everyone's satisfied that no permanent damage has been done, she's returned to me. She's still sleeping. Go figure.

Someone - probably Bobby - called Ella. There's a fresh pineapple upside down cake on the counter.

I carry her to the bedroom and put her on the bed. I gather up clean clothes. I get a basin of warm water to clean off the blood. I strip her, clean her up, dress her in clean sweats, and put her under the covers. She's still sleeping. I don't know whether to be impressed or horrified.

I leave her a note telling her about the cake. I bet she eats half of it before dinner.

I settle into the chair in my office. On top of the pile of paperwork in my inbox is a request for a bid to do security for a local concert venue. We've submitted bids to them in the past. Even when we were the lowest bidder, we were turned down. Now, with Steph as a RangeMan representative, they request our bids - they hire us, too.

I was right when I told her that she'd improve our image and make us look less like a gang of thugs. We've gotten other accounts for which we'd been passed over prior to her employment here. The clients love her. No surprise there. Even her skips usually like her. Hell, she's got a few that go with her voluntarily. On more than one occasion, Hector's pride has been bruised when a skip won't cooperate for _him_ and then jumps right in the car for her. It makes up for the times she ends up covered in garbage, gets puked on, stalked, kidnapped and all the other things that happen to her.

Not once has she embarrassed RangeMan, Hector, the guys, or me.

She's well liked and well-respected by everyone here. The guys love her. Hector worships her. There are fewer bets placed on her these days. She's had the Mini for over a year now. The Navigator doesn't have so much as a scratch on it. Nothing in her vicinity has blown up or caught fire in a good long time. She's become more confident and more successful. She does her job well, even if she is accident prone. She has good friends and a good support system these days.

I'm proud of her.

Her mother has slowed down on the nagging her about her job. Today's escapade is going to get Steph some grief, though. To tell the truth, it's going to get Hector and me some grief at Sunday dinner, too. Most likely, we'll all get phone calls from Mama Plum before the day is out asking how we could have let this happen.

Mrs. Plum is still trying to Val-ify Steph, but she's turned down the volume some. I'm looking for the mute button for that subject.

I sort out the papers in my inbox and the messages on my blotter. Items that must be dealt with now, from the office. Items that must be dealt with in the next forty-eight hours. Items that can be dealt with later. I set aside things that I can do from the couch in our apartment. I'd rather be working up there than down here.

I take care of the pressing business. A few hours later, I'm finally done. I check in at the control room before I return home.

Bobby's still looking like he feels guilty. Steph wasn't upset, so I'm not. Okay, so I'm a little pissed. I don't like it when someone hurts her. Logically, I know that Bobby was trying to help her, not hurt her. I wish he'd been more careful, but he didn't let her fall, so I'm not going to make an issue of it.

"Did Ella bring the cake?" Bobby asks without looking at me. I knew it.

"It's on the counter, waiting for her."

He looks relieved. "Oh, good."

"Anything going on I should know about, Lester?"

"Nope. All the monitored accounts have been quiet. Today's FTA's have been picked up and delivered to the cop shop. Body receipts have been turned in at Vinnie's."

"Where's Hector?"

Lester shoots a glare at Bobby an says, "You have to ask? He went back to the hospital and took care of the paperwork for their skip, then turned in their receipt. He's upstairs now, watching over Sleeping Beauty."

I crack a smile at Bobby. He looks nervous. I let my smile go cold for a minute. "Need a refresher in knife safety, Bobby?"

Now he's dead white. I know I shouldn't play with him. I'm not mad, and he loves her as much as everyone else. He shakes his head. "No." His voice is firm and clear.

I let him off the hook and let my smile thaw. "Didn't think so. Just thought I'd check."

His color comes back again and he relaxes. "She mad at me?"

"Hell, no. She's just glad you didn't get her shot or get her arrested. You know she doesn't like that." The control room is filled with laughter. Another gift from her. Here, inside these walls, there's warmth and laughter. No more cool mercenaries, working like automatons. Unless there are clients here, the atmosphere is now warm and comfortable.

"I told her she's no fun at all. Doesn't like to be shot at. Doesn't want to be arrested. Doesn't like the ER." Another laugh from the on duty crew.

"I'll be upstairs if I'm needed."

"Skipping out on work, Ranger?" Tank asks slyly.

I hold up the paperwork. "Going to work from the comfort of my home."

I leave the floor with their laughter following me.

"Hector."

"Ranger."

"She still sleeping?"

A smirk. "No. She's sleeping again. She got up and had cake with me about an hour after I got here. I gave her a pain pill at two. She fell asleep watching television, so I put her back to bed."

I shake my head. I look at the pill bottle and realize why she's so sleepy. "These pills are killer. This is the same dosage they gave me when I got shot, and I outweigh her by at least a hundred pounds. She won't be able to keep her eyes open until she stops taking them."

"No problem. I'll take Lula with me tomorrow. We'll cover her skips. After we've got them rounded up, we'll go after Catalina Rosen."

"Good idea to take Lula to go after her." Rosen was a middleweight in the street level distribution of illegal narcotics. Her bond amount was in RangeMan's contract, but she was given to Stephanie and Hector because Catalina was bad news for male agents. More than once, she claimed to have been sexually assaulted by someone taking her in. Most bond companies wouldn't touch her because of that. Vinnie bonded her out because he had Lula and Stephanie to collect her. Now that Hector had been added to the mix, there was another available bond enforcement agent at Vinnie's disposal who could handle her. Still, better safe than sorry. It's always a good idea to have a female agent when you're taking down a female skip.

"I thought so. Besides, Lula loves to stun people. She doesn't get to do that when she works with Tank." We both chuckle. Most skips in Lula's range took one look at Tank and were more than willing to go with her to the station. Anything to keep Tank from crushing them like bugs.

"Good point."

"Ella called to say dinner will be ready at six-thirty, so let her know when you want it."

"Thanks." We both knew I was thanking him for more than the message from Ella.

"No problem." We both knew he meant it, even with what I had left unsaid.

"I'll be by in the morning to check on her."

"Okay. I'm going to arrange to work here most of tomorrow. I don't want her to be alone."

"I'll be by as soon as I can so you get into the office."

"Okay."

Hector heads home for the night. Funny how comfortable it is to have him here, so involved in our lives. At one point, I didn't have any trust or faith in him as a man or as an employee. Now, he cares for the one person I love more than anyone else. He watches over her when I can't. He protects her as I do. He has proven that his value is amongst the highest. I can trust him completely, and it's a comforting thought. Like her father and me, he'd die for her and he'd kill to keep her safe.

In the bedroom, Steph is laying on her side, lovingly and carefully tucked in. There's a glass of water on her nightstand, along with a cell phone, just in case. The clock tells me it's six, so I call Ella to ask her to bring dinner as soon as it's ready. I decide to wake Steph so that her eyes are open by the time dinner arrives.

"C'mon, Babe." I rub her shoulder. I push her hair back out of her face and frown. Her skin is hot. I'll have to watch that. She may need an antibiotic. She probably should have been given a prescription for one today. I make a mental note to go back through her paperwork in case I missed it.

She grunts and rolls onto her back. "Ugh. Ow!"

"Shouldn't roll over on those stitches, Babe." Another grunt.

"Wassamatter?"

"Almost time for dinner."

Her eyes open. They look cloudy and a little unfocused. Damn. Maybe I can convince her that Advil will take care of the pain. "Dinner?"

"Dinner." That gets her up. Slowly. I grab her arm when she gets up off the bed and sways. "Dizzy?"

"No. Yes. I think I'm just sleepy." That's it, no more prescription pain pills. Advil from here on out.

I get her into the bathroom and then to the couch. I wrap her in an afghan that Hector and Juan gave her last Christmas. It's all different shades of blue, from a pale ice blue to a deep midnight blue. One of the blues perfectly matches her eyes.

She settles in and closes her eyes. "Feel okay, Babe?"

"No." Shit.

"What doesn't feel good?"

"My back." Well, that's no surprise.

"Anything else?"

"I don't think I like those pills." Good. That makes things easier.

"Want Advil instead?"

"I guess."

"Next time you're due for a pain pill, I'll give you that instead of the script."

"'Kay." Hope we have Advil. She tends to go through a lot of it. I'll have Ella get more when she brings dinner.

"Did the doc give you any other prescriptions?"

"I dunno." Her speech is slightly slurred. I'm not sure whether it's because of the pain med or the fever.

I hunt down the paperwork. Sure enough, there's a prescription for an antibiotic stuck to the back of the discharge slip.

I call the control room. This needs to be filled now. Bobby draws the short straw and comes to get the prescription. I tell him to get the biggest bottle of ibuprofen he can find while he waits.

In the meantime, Ella has arrived with dinner. I bring it to the living room. Steph's dozed off again, so I have to wake her up to feed her. Ella made all her favorites. She eats, but not as much as usual. I decide that maybe she'll be tempted by more cake, so I go to get her a piece.

No wonder she's not hungry for dinner. She ate the whole damned cake. That makes me feel better. She hasn't lost her appetite, she's just full of cake.

She sits on the couch, eyes half shut, until Bobby comes back around seven thirty. He's brought the antibiotic and a bottle of 500 ibuprofen tablets. He's also got a peace offering: A king sized Snickers bar. He hands it to her and she thanks him. She puts it down on the table and his jaw drops. She never puts down chocolate.

He looks at me, the question clear in his eyes: _What the Hell is wrong with her?_

"She ate the whole cake you had Ella make her."

He laughs. "That would explain it."

I nod, then shake my head. Nice to know that the slightest change in her eating habits has us all in a panic. While one part of me is grateful that everyone at RangeMan accepted her without question and formed a caring support system for her, another part of me is a little jealous of all the male attention she receives. I have absolute trust in every one of them, especially Steph, but some days it's hard to see how much they care for her. I don't know quite why. Maybe it's the fear that if I screw this up my whole company will be hunting me down to kill me.

After Bobby leaves, I give her one of the antibiotic pills. She needs one every eight hours. She's due for the next pill at four in the morning. That'll make her happy. I also hand over four of the ibuprofen tablets. After she's swallowed all five pills, it's back to bed.

I decide that an early night sounds good to me, too. I turn off the lights and crawl in bed next to her, carefully pulling her into my arms. She sighs and snuggles up. I love this. Bedtime is now my favorite time of day.

I don't know what woke me up. It wasn't the alarm on my watch. I'm used to that. Steph's still in bed, so a trip to the bathroom or kitchen isn't the culprit.

I lay perfectly still, breathing slowly and evenly, listening. It's unlikely that someone broke into the building or our apartment, which means there's probably an emergency somewhere that requires my attention. I watch the bedroom door, waiting for it to open. It doesn't, and I don't hear a thing beyond it.

Just when I'm ready to get up and go check it out, I hear a sound from the other side of the bed. A moan. I reach for Steph, thinking she must have rolled onto her stitches.

She's burning hot. She shouldn't be this hot. An infection? Possible. Flu? I immediately dismiss illness and return to the possibility of infection. After all, she was fine yesterday morning. Grumpy about having to get up and be out the door early, but not flushed or fatigued. No coughs or sniffles. No complaints beyond the hour of the morning.

While my mind is running through potential causes, I head for the bathroom to get a thermometer. I don't have one. I call down to the control room. We keep them in the med kits. In under two minutes, there's a med kit at my door. It's delivered by Manuel, who's wearing a concerned look. "Anything I can do?" he asks. Christ. She's worked with him maybe once. Seen him a half dozen times. And she's got him worried too. But then, she did tell the nurse she was his wife after Scrog shot him…

I decide to take him up on his offer. "I need Ella. Get Hector. Get the doc who saw her in the ER on the phone now. I'm going to check her temp." I move of to the bedroom while he pulls out a phone and starts with the calls. I press the thermometer into her ear, gently. She moans and shifts, but doesn't even open her eyes. I look at my watch while I wait. It's only two thirty. What the Hell is going on with her?

_Beep_. Holy shit. Her temp is one hundred four degrees. This is bad.

Manny appears in the doorway. "Doc wants to know how high her temp is."

"A buck four."

"Shit. It's one hundred four, Doc." He's listening now. "Okay. Yes. I understand. Thank you." Manuel hangs up and starts relaying instructions. "Cool her off in a lukewarm bath. Make sure she takes her antibiotics. Give her Tylenol to help reduce the fever. If she's no better in four hours, she goes back to the ER. If she gets worse, take her in immediately. She has a seizure, call an ambulance."

"That's what I figured." Simple, basic, common sense things. I don't know why I didn't think of that. Yes, I do. I'm not always able to think rationally where she's concerned. "Get Ella up here. I'll need help. I don't have any Tylenol here, either, so someone needs to get some. Call Hector and let him know I'll be taking tomorrow off, so he doesn't need to rush back here to sit with her. Call Tank and tell him he's the boss until further notice."

Manuel is back on the phone.

Ten minutes later, Ella is at the door. Manuel lets her in then leaves. I've got Steph in the bathroom, soaking in the tub. She half woke up when I put her in the water, but didn't protest or fight me. Ella asks for details and leaves to get cool fruit juice for Steph to wash down the Tylenol with. I wring out a wet washcloth over Steph's shoulders. I wipe down her face. Over and over I run the wet, tepid cloth over her. Ella returns with a glass of juice and two Tylenol tablets.

"Give her these." I obey. Steph wakes up just enough to swallow the pills and drink the juice. I hand the empty glass back to Ella. "I'll bring another glass now, and I'll leave one on the nightstand. There's a whole container of this in your refrigerator."

"Thank you, Ella." Is it my imagination, or is Steph's body a little cooler? I look at my watch. Twenty minutes in the tub. Maybe, but probably wishful thinking.

Ella returns with the fresh glass of juice. "Ella, can you get me the thermometer from the nightstand?"

"Of course." She gets it. I press it into Steph's ear. One hundred three point two. Not much of a drop, but at least it didn't stay the same or go up. I heave a sigh of relief.

Ella is standing in the doorway, waiting for a report. "It's gone down a little. I'm sorry I got you out of bed. I'll get our breakfast in the morning. Please, sleep in."

"It's no problem, Ranger. You hired me to take care of your building and the people in it. No need to apologize. I'll be up with Louis, so I'll get your breakfast as usual." Her tone brooked no argument from me.

"Thank you."

"I'm going back downstairs. If you need anything else, you call me." It's an order and I know it. She places a cell phone on the edge of the sink. "Anything."

"Okay."

I turn back to Steph and begin running the wet washcloth over her again.

At three forty-five, her temp is down to one hundred one. She's a little more with it. She's had the second glass of juice. Her fingers and toes are pruney. Time to get out of the bath tub. I dry her off with minimal assistance from her. She's able to stand upright for me, though. I manage to get her dressed with the same amount of her participation. By the time I get her back to bed, it's time for the second antibiotic pill. I give her that with the third glass of juice.

Finally, I fall into bed next to her. I'm exhausted. I'm worried. I'm stressed. Life with her is never dull. It's a roller coaster ride, every day. Some days, it's a free fall without a parachute. Some days, it's a fall with a parachute and a soft landing. Every day is an adventure, for better or for worse.

I wouldn't give this up for anything in the world. I wouldn't change her for anything in the world.

The apartment door opens at six thirty. I groan. I just got to sleep. I don't want to wake up, let alone get out of bed. Steph's still sleeping soundly - and still has a temp of one hundred one. I know; I've been checking every thirty minutes or so.

A soft knock on the bedroom door. "In." It's Hector.

"You look tired." I'll bet.

"Long night." An understatement.

"I heard." I know.

"What's up?"

"Just came to check on her, see if you want me to get anything. I'm not meeting Lula until eight. She's coming in with Tank." Figures. They're more or less living together at her apartment now. I know it's just a matter of time before they make it official. And really, I'm happy for them.

"She's better. Her temp has dropped three degrees. We're okay for now. Ella brought juice and Tylenol in the middle of the night, and she's bringing breakfast at seven thirty."

"Call me if anything changes." Like I wouldn't. I've got a lot to live for these days; I don't want to die because I pissed off Hector. "Juan will be by around lunch to feed her. He cooked half the damned night. I think you'll have food and dessert until her birthday."

I laugh softly. "I'll call you. What did Juan cook?" Juan is a chef at one of the most exclusive restaurants in Manhattan. Having him cook for you personally is the highest honor he can bestow upon you. He cooks for Steph every chance he gets.

"Everything." Hector shakes his head. "He cooked all things that are easy to reheat. He made at least three different cakes. He made cookies. He made salads."

I laugh again. Maybe I should have asked what he didn't make. "Thanks for letting him cook for her."

"Like I could stop him." Hector comes over to the bed and kisses her head. Her eyes half open. She's very groggy.

"Hector?"

"_Si_. How are you this morning?"

"It's morning?"

"_Si_. Morning."

"We were just watching TV…" She's obviously a little disoriented. She rolls over and notices me. "When did you get home?"

"Last night, Babe."

"Oh… What time is it?"

Hector looks at his watch. "Six forty eight."

She groans. "It's not morning, then." She rolls over to go back to sleep.

"Babe, you need to take some more Tylenol before you go back to sleep."

Hector heads to the kitchen for more juice while I get the Tylenol. I hand her two tablets. Hector hands her the juice. She takes the pills and drinks the juice, then curls up again.

Since I'm out of bed, I walk Hector to the door.

"You okay, man?" He's studying my face carefully.

"She scared the shit out of me last night. And that was after she scared the shit out of me yesterday morning." I shake my head.

"She does that."

"She does."

"You done being scared?" He's grinning at me. I can't help but grin back.

"Hell, no." Now he laughs.

"Have fun today. She's going to be real cross."

"I know."

"You got Ghostbusters and chocolate?"

"Hell, yes. And Ella's making her chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, so maybe we can start the day right."

"That's good." He leaves. I debate going back to bed, but Ella will be here with breakfast before long. I decide to go take a shower.

While I shower, I think about the plans for her birthday party.

Steph's birthday is next week, on Thursday. There's a big party planned for her next Friday. Half The Burg, most of RangeMan, most of Trenton PD, Connie and Lula will be there. Some of her skips have been invited. She'll have a blast. Sally Sweet and his band are playing. After much debate, Hector and I decided to invite Morelli. After all, he's been a part of her life for a very long time. While I wasn't happy with the things that happened last year, I can understand how he must have felt. She's not a woman you want to lose, ever. He's been fine since we sat down and talked, though. No more problems from him. He apologized to her, to her family, to me and to Hector for his behavior. I think he's realized that he'd rather have her as a friend than lose her totally. I can live with that.

Before that, though, on Thursday I have a very private, intimate party planned. It's a party that includes her, me, dinner, dessert, wine, and a very special gift. The gift is a ring I had George make me a while back. It comes with a proposal, but not the kind that will scare her. I'm going to ask her to spend her life with me. I'm going to allow her to choose the terms. I want to marry her. I want to possess her, to have her possess me, legally. But if that's not what she wants, I'll take what she's willing to give.

I'm not about to lose her.

It's been a long day. After yesterday, then being up nearly all night, I've gone past exhausted and moved on to autopilot. Steph slept on and off all day. She's still feverish, but her temp hasn't risen again. The hours of the day have been marked by doses of Tylenol and antibiotics, juice and whatever food I can get her to eat.

Juan arrived promptly at noon. He had a stack of boxes on a hand truck. They were filled with food. Hector wasn't kidding when he said we would have food until her birthday… And it's still nine days away. Our refrigerator is overflowing, and there's enough dessert to keep even Steph happy for weeks. Looks like Ella will get a break from cooking for us. This won't please her; she takes her job very seriously, and she loves to cook for someone who appreciates food as much as Steph does.

I look at my watch. It's only four. All I can think about is going to sleep. Steph is asleep on the couch. I set the alarm on my watch and lift her up. I lay down and settle her on top of me, wrapped in my arms. I close my eyes and let myself crash.


	2. Chapter 2

_Stephanie's Birthday, Eight A. M. _

In fifteen minutes, we have to be at the doctor's office to have Steph's stitches removed. I can't wait; she's been whining about the itching for two solid days now.

Once she's stitch-free, we're going to the beach. Well, to a beach house. October in Jersey is a little cool for the beach.

The house is mine. It's what she thinks of as the Bat Cave, but it's really more of a summer vacation home. Set into the face of a bluff/cliff, it's basically one large room. The bed is behind partitions, not real walls. The only room with a door is the bathroom. There's only one closet. The whole front is reinforced bulletproof glass, and it looks out over the ocean. The security system encompasses not only the house, but also perimeter of five hundred feet around the house, and the secluded private beach.

She'll love it. She's vaguely aware that it exists, but she's never seen it. I haven't been here since Scrog took Julie. I was there when the call came from Rachel. I hid there throughout the Ramos situation. It's a very private place, which is just what I want for today.

"Where are we going?" Her natural curiosity is always at the surface. It's rare that she bothers to control it. Mostly, she lets me know what she wants me to share.

"The beach."

She rolls her eyes at me. I can't see her face, but I know that's what she just did. "I know that. I want to know where at the beach."

I turn slightly and smile at her without taking my eyes off the road. "You'll see."

She grunts at me. "Why now?"

"Why now what?" I know what she means, but I love to tease her.

"Ugh. Why are you showing me this place now?"

"Special occasion, Babe."

"My birthday is a special occasion? It wasn't last year." She's both right and wrong about last year and her birthday.

"Yes, your birthday is a special occasion. It was last year, too, but things were different then. You were still living with Hector."

She snorts at me this time. She's got a sound for every occasion. And I do mean _every _occasion. "I was living with Hector because you made me."

True. "Yes, I did. But now you're living with me."

"Yeah." I hear the smile in her voice.

I pull up at a gate set into stone. I key in a code, press my finger to a print reader, and lean into a retina scanner. The gate unlocks and opens.

"Afraid someone's going to steal you?" She giggles.

"No. I'm afraid they're going to steal _you_." I'm only half kidding, but she giggles again anyway.

The driveway is paved and pulls right into a garage next to the house. The garage door opens precisely twenty seconds after the gate closes. I pull inside and turn off the engine. I grab two bags from the back seat and go to a security panel by a door set into the wall. I repeat the process from the gate. This is the only entrance to the house. While there is an additional exit, there's only one way in.

"Wow." She's stepped into the house and is looking out the front wall.

"Like it?"

"Love it." I knew she would.

She sits on the couch that faces the glass wall while I put away the food I packed. I place two duffle bags in the bedroom and go sit with her. As soon as my ass hits the leather, she crawls into my lap.

"Why don't you live here all the time?"

"It's too far away from work and you." That gets me a smile. "It's also a place I come when I need to escape. You can't escape and de-stress when everyone knows where you are and how to get a hold of you."

"Why haven't you been here lately?"

I kiss her, long and slow. "No need to escape anymore, Steph."

"Oh." She thinks for a minute. "What were you trying to escape?"

I groan. "I was trying to escape temptation."

"Why?"

"I was always tempted to pursue you."

"You were?" She knows damned well I was. Sometimes, I gave in and let myself apply some pressure in that direction. I always stopped before I gave in to that urge, though.

"You know I was."

She settles back against me, looking at the ocean. "Are you happy, Ranger?"

"More than I've ever been, Steph."

"Me, too."

I hug her. "Hungry yet?" She ate only three hours ago, but I know her stomach is probably empty again.

"A little." I start to get up, but she stops me. "No. I'd like to sit here with you longer."

I settle back into my seat. She's still curled in my lap with her head on my shoulder. My arms are around her. "That better?" I whisper.

"Perfect." She sighs. "Thank you, Ranger."

"Sitting with you in my lap is my pleasure, Babe. No need to thank me." I know that's not what she's talking about. I don't need her thanks, though. I'd rather be giving her mine.

""That's not what I meant."

"I know." I tilt her face up to mine. "Thank you, Steph. For all the same things." I kiss her gently on the lips. I feel her smile. "What?"

"Damned ESP." She giggles.

"Not ESP. Just a heart in tune with yours."

"Liar." Not this time.

"No." She lowers her face to my chest again. I squeeze her a little.

We watch the last rays of the sun kiss the water and fade away. "Now I'm hungry," she announces.

I laugh and go get her dinner. We eat at the small bistro table in the kitchen. After dinner, I bring out the cake Juan made for her. I light the candles and she blows them out, smiling.

"What did you wish for, Babe?"

"I'm not telling."

"Why not?"

"If I do, it won't come true." She's actually serious.

"Knew there'd be a good explanation." I smile at her and watch her cut the cake. I have a small piece. She has a huge piece with ice cream. I put the dirty dishes in the sink. "Come to bed with me?" I'm not asking her there to make love to her. Well, not yet. The idea of proposing to her out here in the main room makes me feel exposed.

She slips her hand into mine. "Sure." I lead the way, settling her on the bed before I go to get my bag.

She's looking at me, clearly confused. "Had to get your gifts, Stephanie." I never call her that. Always Babe or Steph. I can see the confusion increase. I pull out a few small, brightly wrapped packages. I lay them out on the bed in front of her. I've numbered them, so she opens them in the right order.

She opens the first package. It's a picture of the two of us. I don't know which of the guys took it. I know approximately when it was taken by the fact that I can see the grille and fender of her CRV. The wallet sized picture appeared on my desk one day. I had it copied in the same size for her. We're in front of Vinnie's, in our usual work clothes. She's looking up at me, hands on her hips, a smile on her face. I'm looking down at her with just a hint of a smile and my arms crossed over my chest. We're looking directly into each other's eyes. Somehow, the photo depicts a very intimate moment.

She looks up at me and smiles. "This is great. How did you get it?" I shrug. I can't honestly tell her all the details. I don't know them myself. That gets me an eye roll.

The second package contains three contracts: the standard RangeMan employment contract, hers, and Hector's. Now she's looking at me like I've lost my mind. "Look them over Babe." She looks them over, and I can see exactly when the differences hit her. The standard one is general, spelling out the terms of employment, physical requirements, training requirements, benefits, length of employment and partnership. Hers spells out, in detail, the fact that RangeMan cannot break her contract. It's a lifetime contract, but she is free to leave at any time without any repercussions. It specifically lists Hector as her partner. Her benefits are lifetime also – even if she leaves RangeMan. Hector's contract is almost identical to hers, listing her as his permanent partner.

"Why?"

"You'll see, Babe. Keep going."

The third box contains more legal papers. One is a living will, naming her as my healthcare proxy. There's a Power of Attorney. Another is my will, leaving her half of RangeMan (the other half goes to Tank), and everything else I own, with the exception of a trust fund for Julie. It also transfers my legal rights regarding Julie to her. I have made Steph the executor of my will.

She looks up at me, her eyes huge. "Is there something I should know about?" I see fear. Shit. She thinks I'm sick or something.

"No, Steph. I just want to show you how much you mean to me, and that I really meant what I said about forever." The fear leaves her eyes, but she's still a little wary.

The fourth box contains a credit card in her name. It's connected to my personal account, not RangeMan's corporate account. Her eyes look like saucers. "No limit on that card, Steph. And I pay the bill, so you can buy as many pairs of shoes as you want. You can buy out Victoria's Secret. Or, you can do both." That gets me a smile. Personally, I hope she buys out Victoria's Secret.

She looks at the remaining boxes. "Where's five?" she asks.

I take package five out of my pocket. The small box isn't wrapped. I open it and hold it out to her, with the opening facing me. She starts to reach for it when I speak. "Stephanie." Her hand freezes in midair. She looks at me. "Stephanie, marry me. When you're ready. When it's what you want. Next week, a month from now, ten years from now, fifty years from now. Whenever you want. Your choice."

"Oh…" She gasps. She takes the box and looks in at the ring. Her hands are trembling as she removes it from the box. "Marry you?" I nod. "Your love doesn't come with a ring…."

"It does if you want it to, Steph."

"You mean it?"

"Yes." Please let her say yes. The ring is gold, custom made. The band thickens to accommodate the diamond, which is set into it, so that there are no prongs or protrusions to get caught on anything. The ring is coated with the same substance as the dog tags we both wear, to keep the metal from making noise. "You can wear it on your chain, or on your hand. You can leave it in the box. Your choice, Babe."

Her eyes are filled with tears. Shit. My heart falls. She's going to turn me down. Her mouth opens. "We can get married when I want?"

"When _you_ want." If we did it my way, I'd have married her while she was still living with Hector. However, I've learned the value of giving her choices and, by proxy, control.

She's still looking down at the ring, cupped in her hand. Slowly, she slides it onto her finger. She stares at her hand for a minute. She looks up at me. "I want to get married tomorrow."

The breath I hadn't realized I was holding escapes my lungs with a loud _whoosh_. I lean forward and kiss her. "Consider it done, Steph." I can hear the huskiness of raw emotion in my voice. I clear my throat. "Just tell me where and when. I'll make it happen."

The expression on her face tells me she's thinking. "I want to get married tomorrow night, at the party."

I feel my jaw drop. I'm surprised. I figured she'd want this kept quiet. Not to mention the fact that it's a _surprise_ party. I must be losing my touch. "Party?"

The eye roll. "Puh-leeeeese. You invited my family. You invited most of Trenton PD. You invited people from The Burg. You invited my regular skips. You invited Lula, Connie, and Morelli. Did you really think someone wouldn't tell me?" She's smirking at me.

I laugh. I can't be mad. "Should I get Hector calling people to tell them there's a change of plans?"

She shakes her head. "No. This will be my surprise. I don't want to give my mother a chance to start planning."

I totally agree with her. I saw the dresses for Val's wedding. I suppress a shudder. "How do you want to do this?"

"I want a Justice of the Peace. I want it arranged quickly and quietly. Can your lawyer take care of the legal stuff and make the arrangements?"

I'm dialing my cell before she's finished speaking. When my lawyer answers, I tell him what I want. What she wants. He assures me everything will be ready to go no later than eight p. m. I hang up and relay his congratulations to Steph. "What would you like to do about rings, if anything?" Another choice for her. I'm not going to force her to wear any ring to prove that's she's mine. I know in my heart that she is, and that's all that truly matters.

A frown crosses her face. She looks at the ring newly slipped onto her finger. "Rings? You'd actually wear one?"

"Absolutely. I'd wear a ring _for you_."

"For me?"

I sigh. "Never wore one for Rachel."

She throws me a sidelong glance. "What if I don't want to wear a ring, but I want you to wear one?"

I manage to not grimace. Sometimes, giving her control and choices makes life uncomfortable. "Then I'll wear a ring and you won't."

"What if I don't want either of us to wear a ring?" I look at her sharply. Has she changed her mind about marrying me already? "A ring is traditional. We're not. I want a third tag." She's grinning at me, and I feel my heart melt. Only her.

"And what should the third tag say, Steph?" My voice is husky again.

"It should have our names and the date of our marriage."

"How do you want your name, Babe?" I'm hoping she'll be willing to change it from Plum to Manoso. If she's not, or if she wants it hyphenated, I'll deal with it.

She looks up at me from beneath her lashes. "Stephanie Michelle Manoso."

It's my turn to grin. "You want anything else on that tag, Babe?"

"No. I want it simple."

"I'll call George." Good thing I didn't order rings from him.

I call George and tell him what I want this time. He congratulates us. I invite him to the party and tell him to keep the wedding part silent.

Once again, I relay the congrats to Steph. "Gonna open the rest of those packages, Babe?"

She looks down at the remaining boxes. Box six is a picture frame with a larger copy of the wallet sized photo I gave her earlier.

Box seven is a revised RangeMan contract, with the name Stephanie Manoso.

Box eight contains revised wills and legal papers, naming her as my wife, Stephanie Manoso.

Box nine is a credit card in the name of Stephanie Manoso.

She starts laughing. "Were you that sure I'd say yes?"

I shake my head. "No. I just wanted you to know that nothing would change other than your name if you said yes. If you said no, nothing would change at all. I'd still love you, like I always have. A wedding won't make me want to change you. I fell in love with you, as you are. Not an image of what I wanted you to become."

Tears roll down her cheeks. This time, they don't upset me. This time, I know that those tears are happiness and relief. She throws her arms around me. "Thank you. I love you."

"Right back at you, Steph."

It takes me maybe three seconds to get her clothes off while I'm kissing her.

She never disappoints.


	3. Chapter 3

_Friday, the day of Stephanie's birthday party…_

We're on the way to my lawyer's office. We have a seven o'clock appointment. We were up a good part of the night and we had to leave early to make this appointment, so we're both tired. Steph's eyes are half closed and she's holding onto her coffee cup like it will save her life. My coffee is in the cup holder, and I sip at it every time I think I do so without driving off the road. I'm wiped. I wish we'd been able to sleep in, but this appointment is too important.

I park the car and take Steph's hand in mine. She's still clutching her cup. I can see that it's empty. I'll have the receptionist refill it for her.

By the time we're seated at the desk, we've both gotten our cups refilled. I'm not feeling particularly alert, but at least I'm awake. I think. I look over at Steph and figure she's in about the same condition.

The lawyer starts laying out paperwork and explaining the purpose of each item. Various waivers. A marriage license. Additional Powers of Attorney for emergencies. We start signing all the dotted lines. Steph starts looking a little… overwhelmed.

"You sure about this, Babe?" I want this badly, but not if it's going to upset her.

"I'm sure. I didn't realize how much paperwork was involved in your life," she grumbles.

I laugh, and the lawyer joins me. "Sorry, Babe."

She waves her hand at me. "I should have known. You always like everything planned to death. Twice."

I laugh again. "Babe."

She grunts at me and goes back to signing.

I really never expected her to agree to marry me. In truth, I thought she'd leave the ring in the box until she was damned good and ready. I certainly never dreamed she'd want to get married immediately. I'm glad she doesn't want to wait. It feels as though I'd been waiting for her for years. In a way, I have. Living with her has been wonderful, but somehow, it just wasn't quite enough. All of Trenton knows we're together, but I want _more_.

A thrill of pleasure runs through me and I shiver. After tonight, she'll legally possess me. And I'll legally possess her. Until she said yes, I hadn't realized how much marrying her meant to me. I'd been so sure that she'd turn me down or put me off that I hadn't really allowed myself to plan for a marriage to her.

I can only hope that tonight will go off without a hitch. Please, no bombs, no fights, no kidnappings, no murders, no explosions…

She's tearing through the dressing room, rejecting outfit after outfit. I'm glad I allowed for extra time tonight. Finally, she flops down on the bed.

"I have nothing to wear."

I raise an eyebrow, looking around the bedroom. She's got an entire closet, a large dresser, and over half the dressing room full of clothes. And that's only Fall. Spring, Summer, and Winter are downstairs in storage. "Nothing to wear?"

"Nothing! I can't wear any of this stuff to my wedding!"

Ah. "I'll fix that. Go get the rest of you ready." She gets up and heads for the bathroom.

I do what I always do in these situations: I call Hector to bail me out. I tell him that I'll give him all the details when he gets here, but right now I need a dress on par with the gold one. He laughs and tells me he's on his way.

Less than an hour later, he and Juan are at the door. Hector's holding a dress bag from – where else? – Macy's. I call to Steph. She runs out of the bedroom in her underwear and throws her arms around Hector. "Thank you!" she shouts, grabbing the bag. "Tell them!" I hear as she disappears around the corner.

"What's going on?" Hector is looking bemused. One would think he'd be used to this kind of thing by now. Maybe he is and just enjoys the chaos.

"I asked her to marry me last night."

Two sets of eyebrows go up. "So this is now an engagement party, too?" Hector asks.

"Not exactly."

"She said no?"

"She said yes."

Hector and Juan are looking a little confused now. "She said yes, but you're not going to tell anyone? 

"No. I think that, by the end of the night, all of New Jersey will know she said yes."

Juan looks totally lost. Hector's eyes are shining; he's caught on. "So, this will be a wedding reception?"

"It will be the wedding, too."

Juan's face lights up. Hector's face splits into a grin. The both grab me and hug me. "Finally!" they say in unison.

I grin and hug them back. "Finally."

Steph finally appears in the living room. I swallow hard. Jesus. The gold dress is awesome. This dress is something else entirely. This dress is… _Holy shit!_ My mouth goes dry. The dress is a deep midnight blue, and the cloth is shot with silver thread. It looks like the night sky in the middle of the desert. The top is sleeveless, the bodice fitted to her lush curves. The skirt is long and full, but when she moves, I can see a silver underskirt peeking through multiple slits in the overskirt.

It's a perfect dress for our wedding.

I notice the ring is off her finger and on the chain around her neck, hidden in the bodice of her dress. The chain disappearing into the neckline of the dress draws my eyes down to her cleavage. I shake my head, trying to clear it.

Hector holds out his hand to her and she takes it. He spins her around. "Perfect," he declares. Juan nods his assent. I'm too busy trying to get myself under control to move or say a word.

"Hector, I need to ask you for a favor." She's looking at him a touch nervously. I wonder what's up.

"Anything for you, _H__ermana_."

"I want you to give me away, and I want you to stand up for me."

Hector looks floored. I can sympathize. I figured she'd want Frank to give her away, and Mary Lou to stand up for her. Hector looks at her. "Are you sure?" He was probably thinking along the same lines as me.

"I'm sure. Over the past year, you've become more than just my friend and partner. In a way, you've become family. I'd be honored if you would do this for me."

Hector blushes. "I will do this for you, Stephanie." Hector and Juan are both looking teary. For that matter, so is Steph.

I clear my throat. "Ready to go?"

Three nods are my answer. Hector slips his arm in Steph's. Juan copies his move on her left side. I just look at them. "Gotta make sure she gets there safely," Juan jokes. He's got a point. The Slayers kidnapped her at her sister's rehearsal dinner – God only knows what might go wrong at our wedding.

I park away from the door of the restaurant.

The Justice of the Peace is waiting for us in the lot, as promised. She introduces herself as Barbara and we explain what we want. We explain that both of our partners will be giving us away and that there are dog tags instead of rings. She briefly outlines the ceremony. I pull out my cell and call Tank, asking him to come outside.

Five minutes later, he appears. From the look on his face, he had a hard time detaching Lula. "What?" Wow, he's cross.

"Need a favor," I say.

"Figured."

"Need you to give me away, and to stand up for me tonight." Four faces turn to me. All exhibit varying levels of confusion.

"Give you away? Stand up for you?" Tank looks at me hard. "Are you drunk?"

"No. I'm getting married. Hector is giving Steph away and standing up for her. I'd like you to do the same for me."

Comprehension is beginning to dawn in the people around me. Hector, Steph and Juan start to giggle. Tank shakes his head and stares at me. "You know the woman gets given away, right? Not the man."

"She's going to be given to me by her partner. I want to be given to her by mine."

Tank starts to cackle. "You're nuts."

"Probably."

"You really getting married tonight?" I nod. "And you want me to give you away, and stand up as your witness?" I nod again. Tank stops laughing and just grins at us. It's an infectious grin, and the four of us are soon grinning right back. "Cool." He turns to Steph. "Does your mother know?" She turns white and shakes her head no.

"You realize we're all dead when she finds out, Babydoll," Tank states.

Steph takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Yeah. Good thing Ella will make me pineapple upside down cake, because I'm going to be disowned."

Hector pats her back. Juan tells her he'll make her all the cake she can hold, any kind she wants. We spend a few minutes going over the details of what we want and the roles of Hector and Tank again.

"We better get in there," Tank says. "You guys are now ten minutes late."

I put my arm around Steph's waist and we walk in. Sally is waiting just inside the door. Steph and I pull him aside to tell him about the change in plans.

Promptly at nine, the band takes a break as we requested.

The band leaves the stage. Sally Sweet steps back out a minute later and steps up to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Stephanie, I would like to thank you all for being here." People applaud politely. I can tell they're expecting Sally to sing Happy Birthday. "Stephanie wishes to give you all a gift to show her appreciation." More quiet applause. I've never heard him say so much without cursing. I wonder vaguely if he's got an Uzi on him somewhere.

Sally introduces the Justice of the Peace, giving just her name – no title. People are starting to whisper. Tank and I step up on one side of the stage. Hector and Steph step up on the other. There's more whispering, louder this time. Tank throws an arm over my shoulders. Hector takes Steph's hand in his own. I can see that Steph has placed the ring I gave her back on her finger.

"Thank you all for being here this evening to celebrate the birthday of Stephanie Michelle Plum," the JP intones. Cheers erupt throughout the hall. Once things quiet down, she speaks again. "Hector, please step forward with Stephanie." Hector walks Steph across the stage to a place in front of the microphone. "Um, Tank, please step forward with Ranger." We step forward, stopping next to Hector and Steph.

"Who is responsible for this woman?" From the corner of my eye, I see Mrs. Plum stand up.

Hector speaks. "I am Hector. I am responsible for Stephanie. I give her life to Ranger." I can hear the whispering start up again.

"Who is responsible for this man?"

"I am Tank. I am responsible for Ranger. I give his life to Stephanie." The whispering kicks up yet another notch.

Hector removes Steph's chain and hands it to the JP, then he takes a step back, standing behind Steph.

Tank removes my chain and hands it to the JP, then he takes a step back, standing behind me.

The JP drapes the chains from our dog tags over our wrists, the tags dangling below. The chains bind our wrists together, and Barbara joins our hands. She begins the ceremony. We repeat our vows. I stress the words _'and for worse' _and _'I do.' _ She asks for the tags. She continues the ceremony, stumbling once or twice over the substitution. Steph slides the silver tag onto its chain, then places the chain around my neck, her hands steady. My hands are shaking as I slide the gold tag onto its chain, then return the chain to her neck. We are pronounced man and wife.

I barely hear the woman give me permission to kiss Steph.

When we break off the kiss, it dawns on me that the hall is dead silent. I take her hand and we turn towards our guests. Sally returns to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce Mr. And Mrs. Ranger Manoso."

Finally, there is a sound in the hall. It's the sound of Steph's mother hitting the floor in a dead faint. Grandma Mazur and Frank look down at her, bemused expressions on their faces. Valerie is down on the floor next to her, patting her cheeks. Albert's smiling like he won the lottery. Who knows – if he had a bet on this, maybe he did.

Suddenly, the volume explodes. People cheer. I hear crying. There's loud clapping.

When it quiets down a little, Sally asks us to step onto the dance floor. "Steph and Ranger didn't choose a song for their first dance as a married couple. So, this song is my choice for them."

The music starts. The song sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't quite place it. Sally begins to sing in a voice I hadn't known he possessed: sweet and clear.

_I was lost till you were found  
But I never knew how far down  
I was falling  
Before I reached the bottom  
I was cold and you were fire  
And I never knew how the pyre  
Could be burning  
On the edge of the ice field_

And the now chilly California wind  
Is blowing down our bodies again  
And we're sinking deeper and deeper into the chilly California sand  
Oh I know you belong inside my aching heart  
And cant you see my faded Levi's bursting apart  
And don't you hear me crying:  
Oh Babe, don't go  
And don't you hear me screaming:  
How was I to know?

I'm in the middle of nowhere  
Near the end of the line  
But there's a border to somewhere waiting  
And there's a tankful of time  
Oh give me just another moment to see the light of the day  
And take me to another land where I don't have to stay

And I'm gonna need somebody to make me feel like you do  
And I will receive somebody with open arms, open eyes,  
Open up the sky and let the planet that I love shine through

I can't place it until the chorus begins. I pull Steph more tightly against me. He chose well: an old Meat Loaf song, _For Crying Out Loud_. An unusual love song, but somehow, it suits us and our lives.

_For crying out loud  
You know I love you  
For crying out loud  
You know I love you  
For crying out loud  
You know I love you_

I begin to whisper the words into her ear while we dance. I feel her shiver against me.

_I was damned and you were saved  
And I never knew how enslaved  
I was kneeling  
In the chains of my master  
_

She did save me. Lula was right. She saved me from myself.

_  
I could laugh but you could cry  
And I never knew just how high  
I was flying  
Ah, with you right above me_

I'm in the middle of nowhere  
Near the end of the line  
But there's a border to somewhere waiting  
And there's a tankful of time  
Oh give me just another moment to see the light of the day  
And take me to another land where I don't have to stay

And I'm gonna need somebody to make me feel like you do  
And I will receive somebody with open arms, open eyes,  
Open up the sky and let the planet that I love shine through

For crying out loud  
You know I love you  
For crying out loud  
You know I love your  
For crying out loud  
You know I love you

For taking in the rain when I'm feeling so dry  
For giving me the answers when I'm asking you why  
And my oh my  
For that I thank you

For taking in the sun when I'm feeling so cold  
For giving me a child when my body is old  
And don't you know  
For that I need you

For coming to my room when you know I'm alone  
For finding me a highway and driving me home  
And you gotta know  
For that I serve you

For pulling me away when I'm starting to fall  
For revving me up when I'm starting to stall  
And all in all  
For that I want you

For taking and for giving and for playing the game  
For praying for my future in the days that remain  
Oh lord  
For that I hold you

Ah but most of all  
For cryin' out loud  
For that I love you

Ah but most of all  
For cryin' out loud  
For that I love you

Ah but most of all  
For cryin' out loud  
For that I love you

When you're crying out loud  
You know I love you

The music fades away. She looks up at me and I feel myself start to drown in the deep blue pools of her eyes. My breath catches and I kiss her. She melts into me and I hear wolf whistles and catcalls around us.

"We better talk to your mom, Babe," I whisper in her ear when I stop kissing her.

She groans. "Do we have to?" I smile and slip my arm around her waist, guiding her to the table where Hector and Frank have gotten Mrs. Plum up into a chair. Juan is holding a glass of water out to her. She looks beyond dazed.

She looks at Steph. "Are you pregnant?"

Steph's face turns beet red. "NO!" she all but shouts.

"Then why did you get married? Are you really married?"

Steph turns the Death Glare on her mother. "Yes, we're really married. We got married because _we wanted to_."

"_You_ wanted to get married?" This is directed at me.

I can already see where this is going, and I decide to throw up a road closed sign before it gets ugly. "_We _wanted to get married." That being said, I reach for Steph's hand and lead her back to the dance floor.

I pull her as close as I can legally get her in public. She giggles and presses her hips against me.

"Playing with fire, there, Babe."

Her smile turns coy. "I know." I'm contemplating dragging her out of here immediately when Hector cuts in, asking to dance with the bride. He whisks her away, leaving me standing there. Damn.

Steph gets passed around the room, men dancing with her, the women pulling her off the dance floor, everyone begging her for more information. I make the rounds of the tables and people standing in clusters, waiting for an opportunity to reclaim my bride. I come to Morelli, leaning against a wall.

"Lose her already, Manoso?" He's smiling. Sort of.

"Apparently." We watch her dance with Hal and Junior. Hal never quite feels safe around her alone, so he's always got backup. Personally, I think he's afraid she'll stun him again – or worse.

"She looks good tonight."

"That she does. Hector picked the dress." We both laugh because a gay man chose her wedding dress – without her input – and she is beyond stunning in it.

"Take good care of her, Ranger." He swallows hard, still looking at her.

"I will. I promise." He and I look at each other. I understand he's telling me he'd love an opportunity to get her back. He understands that I'll never give him one.

"Mind if I dance with her?"

"No, but Hector might. I'll speak to him."

Morelli rubs the wrist Hector broke last year. "Thanks."

I walk over to Hector while Morelli walks over to Steph. She steps into his arms a little hesitantly. He holds her, but not too close. They're talking. I'd give a lot to hear what they're saying. When the song ends, Morelli kisses her on the forehead and hugs her. When she steps out of his arms, he takes her hand, refusing to let go. I tense up. Next to me, Hector does the same. Morelli tugs at her hand, and she follows him. He leads her to me. The tension breaks when Morelli bows and holds her hand out to me. "I believe this is yours, Ranger. Try not to lose her."

I look him in the eye. This is costing him a lot. "I'll do my best."

He says good night and leaves then.

Steph is looking up at me. "Deep thoughts, Babe?"

"Yeah. I was thinking about you being the bigger man in all the most important ways." Part of me wants to make a suggestive comment, but I'm too pleased with the sentiment to spoil it with a dirty remark. I kiss her lips lightly.

"Glad you think so, Steph."

It's past midnight when we finally make our getaway. I head back to the beach house.

I could have planned an elaborate honeymoon, but that's not my style –or hers. We won't be needed for a job until Wednesday, when we have an early redecorating job scheduled. I decided on the beach house while she was destroying the closets trying to find something to wear. I called Ella for groceries and packed clothes for us both. I packed our work gear, too, so we don't have to leave until early Wednesday morning to meet the rest of the team onsite. I stubbornly push away worry over the upcoming job and concentrate on here and now.

A few days alone with her. Just us. No interruptions. No one knowing where we are. No one being able to reach us. Away from business. Away from family. Away from friends. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of uninterrupted time alone with her.

"Where are we going?" She's noticed I passed the RangeMan building.

"I'm taking you back to the beach house so we can have a few days of peace and quiet." I know the answering machine is probably half full already. She left her cell phone in the apartment, but I have no doubt that by morning it will have a full voicemail box. I'd turned mine off and stuck it in the glove box until we get to the beach house.

"Good idea."

When she gets out of the car in the garage, I pick her up. "You don't have to carry me over the threshold, you know."

"I know, but I want to make sure you don't change your mind."

She laughs softly and strokes my face with her hand. "I promise I won't change my mind."

I carry her into the bedroom and reverently set her down on the bed. She's looking up at me, love and desire in her eyes. Jesus. "Let me help you with your dress, Steph."

She stands up. Getting her out of that dress without tearing it to shreds is an exquisitely pleasurable torture.

Hours later, she's wrapped around me, sleeping. I'm laying there, stunned. Nothing has ever felt as good as making love to her tonight. It was the most intense rush I've ever felt. I'm undone by the intimacy I feel. I'm shocked that the simple act of legally joining my life to hers has made me feel this way.

I wonder if she felt the same way.

As the room begins to lighten with the coming dawn, I wake her to watch the sun rise.

I lift her out of bed. She's groggy. I pull the comforter off the bed and carry them both to the couch. I lay down, settle her on top of me and the comforter over us both.

"Mmm…" She snuggles in, closing her eyes again.

"Don't want to watch the sun rise, Babe?"

"I like the sun best when it's awake."

"So you don't like to watch it wake up?" I know damn well she hates early mornings. But I'm awake, and I want her company. Selfish, I know.

"What do I have to do to get you to let me sleep through the sunrise?"

"Gonna tell me what you wished for on your birthday?" I'm willing to bet she won't tell me, even to go back to sleep.

"Might as well. Got it already."

What? "Pardon?" Maybe I misheard.

"Already got what I wished for."

"Why'd you wish for something you already have?" Maybe she's less awake than I thought…

She sighs. "Didn't have it when I wished for it."

Oh. Maybe I'm less awake than I thought. "What was it?"

"You."

I'm confused. "You already had me, Babe. You have for a long time now." About four years, in fact.

"I wasn't married to you, though."

Wait a minute… "Your wish was to marry me?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you say something, Steph?" My voice is soft now.

She shrugs. "You've always been honest and straightforward with me. You said nothing about marriage, so I assumed you were happy with what we had."

"I was happy, Babe. I'm happier now." She shivers. "Cold?" I try to tuck the comforter more tightly around her.

"No."

"Why'd you shiver?"

"I'm happy. I'm happier than I ever dreamed I could be. It just hit me all of a sudden… I've got everything I've ever wanted."

"Glad to hear it."

"Me, too."

She's wiggling around, trying to get comfortable or snuggle closer. "Problem?"

"No." She wiggles some more. She's doing it on purpose. I start running my hands up and down her body. The wiggling turns to writhing.

I decide to give her what she's after. "Let me inside you, Steph," I breathe into her ear. Her body goes still for a moment… then she shifts her hips and legs to let me in.

I decide that I'm going to have to wake her up to see the sunrise every morning we're here…


	4. Chapter 4

_Wednesday morning, the day of the redecorating job…_

"What made you decide that you wanted a relationship _with me_?" We're in the Cayenne, on our way from the beach house to the redecorating job. It's early. I didn't think her brain was functional enough at this hour to ask questions like that.

"You." She rolls her eyes, as usual. She sighs. Her arms cross over her chest. The foot starts tapping. Apparently, she'd like more detail. We've been over this before, at least partially. I've never really given her the whole story. "You're one of a kind, Babe." It's absolutely true.

"Ranger. Tell. Me." I know that voice. Since I'd like to live to see my first anniversary, I'm going to give in this time. Maybe.

"Liked your spirit. Liked your guts. Liked your inability to give in or give up; your tenacity. Liked the way you could make me smile."

"And?"

I sigh. "You cared about me. You treated me like a human being. You trusted me. You accepted me, as is. You offered me your friendship. You made me feel as though I had value. You helped me. You have a beautiful heart. You're not afraid to fly."

She giggles. "Flying gets me broken bones."

"Not when you're with me, Babe."

Another giggle accompanied by a blush. "Good point. What made you look at me twice?"

That's a new one. "You showed up in that diner, and you were scared as Hell. I could see the excitement and the anticipation under the fear, though. You were looking forward to the job." Close enough. No need to tell her how much her excitement had turned me on that day – or that I could see desperation and abject terror underneath it.

"I wasn't scared – I was terrified!"

"Happens to everyone."

"Ha! You're never terrified!"

"Sometimes."

"Name one time!" she demands.

"I'll name two from the past month. First, the day you got hung up on the wall when the fire escape fell. Then, you got that fever from the infection. Two days ago, when I asked you to marry me, I was beyond terrified that you'd turn me down and walk away!" Oops. She's rubbing off on me – I hadn't meant to tell her that last bit.

She gasps. "You thought I'd leave you – and that terrified you?" Shit. Of course she latches on to the one thing I didn't intend to say aloud.

"You mean a lot to me, Stephanie." More than she knows, apparently. I'll have to work on that.

"Sometimes, I can't believe you really changed your whole life to accommodate a relationship with me."

"I didn't change my life."

She shakes her head. "You could have any woman you want…" Her voice trails off.

"I have the only woman I want." I reach over and take her hand. I decide to turn the tables on her. "Why did you come to me last year?"

"What?"

"You always ask me why I changed my mind. You came to me without knowing that I had."

"Morelli sent me to you." That's only part of the truth and I know it. And, she knows that I know.

"Babe."

She leans her head on the window and watches the passing scenery. "I… " She seems to be searching for words. Either that or she's not going to tell me. "I decided that I was going to take whatever you were willing to give me."

I look at her sharply. I hadn't expected this. "Explain." I keep my voice soft.

She takes a deep breath. "I knew I loved you. I couldn't go to you because I always felt guilty, like I was cheating on Joe. I knew that Joe and I weren't going anywhere, but I couldn't seem to walk away. When he sent me to you, the guilt lifted."

That explains a lot, but not everything. She's always been a relationship kind of woman – not a one night stand girl. "You always did the opposite of what Joe wanted you to do."

"Yeah.. But that one time, he told me to do what I wanted."

"How?" He'd told her to do what _she _wanted?

She sighs. "When you got shot, I admitted to myself that I loved you in a very different way than I loved Joe. You'd always made it clear that you couldn't give me a relationship. Every day, though, you showed me that you cared. I decided that I was willing to take whatever you were willing to give me. Sex. Love. Friendship. One night or a lifetime of nights. It didn't matter any more. Having you in my life was more important to me than anything else. I knew you wouldn't hurt me intentionally. I trusted in you and what you were offering."

I squeeze her hand. "I'm glad you changed your mind, Steph."

She squeezes my hand back. "I'm glad you changed yours."

We're both quiet for the rest of the ride.

We're standing in a parking lot a block away from the building we've been hired to redecorate.

Three black Broncos. One black Navigator. One black Cayenne. Lester. Bobby. Hal. Tank. Junior. Cal. Hector. Steph. Me. We are all dressed in RangeMan uniforms and Kevlar vests. We're all heavily armed Steph-style. After Hector set her up with a non-lethal armament that worked so well, I incorporated the gear into RangeMan's armory. I have found non-lethal weapons to be especially useful on jobs like this, where lethal force is unnecessary but a show of force keeps the situation under control.

I'm nervous. Since Hector became her partner, I rarely work with Steph. I'm too protective of her, too focused on her. Being distracted in a potentially dangerous situation is bad news. Honestly, I have no idea how Hector manages to work with her daily. I can't do it. I love her too much. I want her safe too badly.

The only reason she's here for this job is because of the circumstances of the job. We're clearing a four bedroom apartment inhabited by ladies of the evening. This isn't a great neighborhood, but it's a quiet one. The landlord is unhappy, as are the other tenants. Legal proceedings are taking too long. In the meantime, not only are johns visiting at all hours of the day and night, but they're bringing drugs with them. A few have threatened other residents of the building when they dared to complain. It's not a good situation. Making it even worse is the fact that we'll be dealing with four women, known prostitutes, possibly under the influence of God knows what. Having Steph along is protection for us, not them.

We're leaning on the hood of the Cayenne, planning the final details and going over everything one more time. We do our best to allow for all possibilities so as to minimize risk to everyone involved. Our hope is to find the women alone and sleeping. That is a best case scenario: surprise them and don't give them an opportunity to fight. Worst case is they're not alone, they're awake, and someone other than us is armed.

I'm betting on – and planning for – the latter.

One last equipment check and we're ready to go. We pile back into the vehicles for the short trip down the block. Better to have the vehicles readily available in case of problems. Instead of going with Hector, Steph climbs into the Cayenne with me. I look at her. "Babe?"

"Nerves."

I lean over and kiss her gently. "Sure you're up for this?"

"Yes."

"You change your mind, you say so." It's been a while since she worked a job like this. I know she still hasn't totally gotten over Tank being shot and her nearly being blown up doing guard duty at her first redecorating job.

She nods. "I'll be fine. Who's taking guard duty?" I knew that was the true source of her nerves.

"Contract workers. I also hired Lula for this job, considering who we're evicting."

Steph laughs. "You hired Lula? Does Tank know?"

"I hired Lula. Tank knows. He's not happy with me."

"I bet."

We park the SUV's in front of the building and get out. Weapons check. Security jackets handed out and donned. The building owner and super meet us at the doors. The super provides us with a key for the door. We confirm the apartment number. Photos of the evictees are passed around.

"Anyone in there with them?" I ask the super.

"I think there's one man. He arrived a little after midnight, and I haven't heard or seen him leave."

"Any chance he left without you noticing?"

"Yeah, but not without Nora Brown noticing."

"Nora Brown?

"The elderly lady who lives in the apartment between the elevator and the stairs. She never sleeps."

"Get her down here." I order. I want to find out if we're dealing with a wild card or not. The super makes a face. Apparently Ms. Brown dislikes being disturbed.

She comes down in the elevator five minutes later. She looks both pissed and frightened, staring at us. I begin to step forward to talk to her, but Steph shoots me a look that stops me dead in my tracks. She approaches the old woman. Steph smiles warmly at Nora. "Hello, Ms. Brown. I'm Stephanie. I work for the company charged with removing the undesirables from your floor. May I ask you a few questions?"

Nora's rheumy eyes shift to focus on Steph. I can see her fear drain away. She smiles back at Steph. "Yes."

"We understand that the ladies in 3D got company around midnight. Has their guest left?" Steph is using a soothing tone of voice.

"No, he's still there. He's a regular. He always arrives around the same time and leaves just before ten in the morning."

Shit. We don't have four hours to wait. Hopefully, he'll be in dreamland, too. That's the best we can hope for at this point. The guys and I exchange glances, confirming that the job is still on and no one has any problems with moving forward.

"Thank you so much, Ms. Brown." Steph pulls a twenty out of her pocket and hands it over. "Please, go have some breakfast on me. It's the least I can do since you were so helpful to us. I am sorry we inconvenienced you."

Nora Brown grabs the twenty and heads out the front door of the building.

''Proud of you, Babe." Once again, her methods got us needed information quickly and without any intimidation from us. It's probably more detailed than we would have gotten, too.

"Ready?" she asks. Nods all around. We split into three teams. One for the elevator, one team on the front stairs, one team on the back stairs.

I decide that Steph, Hector and I will take the elevator. I know she hates stairs, and I feel she deserves a small treat for handling Ms. Brown so well. Everyone smirks at me. "Let's move!" I bark.

Everyone moves.

The elevator goes right up without stopping, and it's empty except the three of us. Tank reports that the front stairwell is clear. Junior gives the same report for the rear stairwell. Third floor corridor: empty except for us. Still split into teams, we gather around the door to 3D. Tank's team is on the left side of the door. Junior's team in on the right. My team front and center. We'll be the first to move into the apartment.

Steph unlocks the door while Hector and I cover her from behind. She steps cautiously into the apartment. It's blessedly silent. No sounds of movement. No television. No radio. No shower.

We advance into the apartment. We agreed ahead of time to hit all four bedrooms at once and bring all tenants to the living room once secured. Steph and Hector will watch them while we clear the apartment. Once it's clear, the police will be called. All four tenants have outstanding warrants, which makes life easier for us. We don't have to worry about them coming back as soon as they've been evicted. Their stuff will be put into storage off site. Keys to the storage units will go to the police station with the women.

Steph is in the center of the hallway with the bedrooms. The rest of us are positioned in pairs outside the four bedroom doors. Hector and I. Tank and Cal. Lester and Bobby. Junior and Hal.

At a signal from Steph, we hit the doors simultaneously.

There's a lone woman in our room, sleeping. We quickly secure her and return to the doorway. Lester and Bobby are standing in the doorway across the hall from us. Tank and Cal appear at their door. I can hear the woman in their room screaming at them. We're waiting on Junior and Hal, who obviously got the only room occupied by more than one person. There's a loud banging followed by the sounds of a struggle.

A naked man with a gun comes running out of the room. He looks around frantically. Obviously, he wants out of this apartment. I'm prepared to let him leave. We're not here for him. I hold my hand up, signaling my guys to stay put and let him go. Steph, who's still in the middle of the hall, takes a step toward the wall so that he can pass her and leave.

Does he do that? Of course not.

Instead, he makes a grab for Steph and pulls her against him. His arm wraps around her neck. He's shorter than her, so she's off balance, being pulled backwards. His other arm comes up and he points the gun at her head.

Christ. I feel like vomiting. I start sweating, my mind kicking into overdrive, looking for a way to keep her safe. Amazingly enough, Steph looks calm. To be honest, she's fairly used to things like this happening to her. I lock eyes with her in an effort to see what's going on in that head of hers.

"Let her go. You're free to leave." I force myself to remain calm and speak in a normal tone of voice.

He starts screaming in Spanish about the whore, who he seems to think set him up. I repeat myself in Spanish. He screams some more, accusing me of lying to him.

I'm at a loss. I can't rush the guy without risking her. Neither can anyone else. He doesn't seem to be willing to let her go. I look over at Hector. I can tell he's thinking the same things I am.

Shit.

I realize Steph is saying something. I almost laugh when I realize she's using Hector's Trick in reverse. She's speaking softly to the man, in English. Only, she's not saying soothing things. She's telling him she's going to punish him for doing this to her.

Slowly, infinitesimally, the arm around her neck loosens.

Without warning, she lets her knees buckle. Surprised, he lowers the gun to grab her and pull her back up. Her hand shoots out and she grabs the gun. Instead of fighting him for it, she ejects the clip, leaving him only the round he has chambered – if there _is_ one in the chamber. She jerks her arm back, driving her elbow into his temple. He drops like a ton of lead.

I look at her. I want nothing more than to grab her and pull her to me, kiss her senseless... I can't though. Not now. She's unharmed, and we need to finish this job. I manage to smile. "You done showing off so we can get back to work?" I ask her.

The hall is filled with coughs and a few errant giggles. "Proud of you, Babe!" the boys chorus.

She rolls her eyes. She looks a little shaken, but not too bad. She crouches down and cuffs the guy. "Someone get him out of my way," she orders. Hector and I step forward and grab him under the arms. We lift him up and drag him to the living room, where we deposit him on the floor. Unfortunately, he's clumsy and has several accidents on the way to the living room, crashing into the door frame, an end table, the coffee table, Hector's fist, my boots…

The four women are brought into the living room. One is still screaming and crying. It's beginning to get on my nerves. I step forward to stun her. Steph's hand on my arm stops me. She holds up one finger to me.

Steph addresses the screamer. "Stop screaming and I'll help you."

Silence. The woman looks up at Steph. Tears are running her face and she blinks, trying to look at Steph. She laughs bitterly. "You? You'll help me? You belong to them!" She jerks her chin at me and the guys. "You people don't help whores. You take them to jail."

Steph looks down at the woman. "I do belong to them, but that doesn't stop me from helping people, if I want to. What's your name?"

The woman is staring at Steph, opened mouthed. So are the rest of us. "Georgia."

"You know Lula, Georgia?"

Georgia thinks for a minute. "She hung out with Jackie on Stark Street, dint she? Big black chick. Where she workin' at?"

"That's her. And that" – Steph points at Tank – "is her man. He's not the kind who makes her entertain other men. She's got a real job now." Georgia turns to look at Tank.

Tank blushes. I think. "That true?" Georgia asks Tank. Tank nods. "Prove it." Tank reaches for his wallet and hands over a dozen photos of Lula and him. "Huh." Georgia hands Tank back the pictures and turns to Steph. "How do you know Lula?"

"Benito Ramirez beat her to a pulp and left her for dead on my fire escape. I found her. I also work with her now."

Georgia's eyes are huge. "You're her? Stephanie Plum? _That_ Stephanie?"

"I'm that Stephanie."

Georgia's eyes fill with tears again. "You really gonna help me?"

"If you I can."

"I can't lose them. If I go back to jail, I lose them!" Georgia's voice is choked with tears.

"Can't lose what?"

"My kids!"

"Social Services have them?"

Georgia shakes her head. "No…."

Steph's expression hardens. "Your pimp?"

Again, Georgia shakes her head. "No…"

Steph sighs, exasperated now. "Then where are they?"

"In my closet!"

Steph turns a shade of white I've never seen on anyone with a pulse. She bolts down the hall. I'm right behind her, Hector hot on my heels. Steph stops in front of the closet door. She looks at me with trepidation. I pull her back and Hector opens the door. I grab Steph's arm to keep her upright as the door swings open.

Two terrified children look up at us. I let Steph fall to her knees. "Hey, guys," she says softly. They look at her. She holds out her hands. They back up, further into the closet. Steph stays down on the floor. "Go get Georgia."

Hector leaves and returns a minute later with Georgia. She kneels next to Steph and speaks softly to the children. "You come out."

The two children emerge from the closet slowly. They're looking at Hector and I warily. I sit down behind Steph. Hector sits behind Georgia. The children return their attention to Steph and their mama. "I'm Stephanie Manoso." Georgia shoots her a look of disbelief, then her eyebrows disappear near her hairline as she turns to me. I keep my face blank, but put a possessive hand on Steph's waist. Her eyebrows manage to go even higher. "You can call me Steph. What may I call you?" she asks, looking at the little girl, who appears to be the oldest.

The little girl looks at her mom. Georgia nods. "Holly," the child whispers.

Steph smiles and holds out her hand. Slowly, after several glances at her mother, Holly slides her hand into Steph's. "Pleased to meet you, Holly." The child smiles shyly. Steph turns to the other child. I'm relatively sure that it's a boy, but I can't be sure. "What may I call you?" Steph asks.

The second child looks at me, then Hector. Now that I can see his face, I'm sure it's a boy. He looks at Steph. Finally, he looks at Georgia, then at Holly. "Are you bad men?" the child asks.

Georgia answers him. "No. They are good men." She looks at me. "He is Mr. Manoso, Stephanie's husband. And that," – looking at Hector – "is her partner, Hector."

I can see Steph is surprised that this woman knows Hector, and especially that he's her partner. "That's right." Steph is nodding. "Mr. Manoso is my husband, and Hector is my partner. They are both good men." I liked the tone of her voice when she introduced me as her husband – possessive and caressing.

The little boy holds out his hand to Steph now. "I'm Jakey."

"Pleased to meet you, Jakey."

The children are sent to play on the other side of the room. Steph looks at Georgia. "What are the charges?"

"Solicitation. Possession. Carrying concealed." Everyone carries concealed in Trenton. Not a big deal, alone. The solicitation charge was no big deal, either. We could probably get her community service and probation for those two charges. The possession of narcotics charge was another matter – especially if she'd had enough for the prosecutor to tack 'with intent to distribute' onto the original charge.

"Did you have enough for the prosecutor to add intent to the possession charge?" I ask.

Georgia looks at the floor. Tears are dripping off of her face. She nods. This complicates things. Come to think of it, this whole situation has complicated things. "I don't know what to do. I don't want them to go into foster care."

I look over at Steph. Her face tells me she's already decided to take care of the kids. "How do you want to do this, Babe?" I'm willing to take them home with us, if that's what she wants. Hell, if she asks me to buy them a house and get them a nanny and a cook, I'll do it. Even is she wants to move Grandma Mazur in to help take care of them. Maybe not that last part…

Steph is wearing her thinking face: eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled, mouth twisted. Suddenly, her face smoothes out and she starts firing off orders. "I don't want this place full of cops to make the arrests. They'll scare the kids. Get Lula here. She can ride with the guys to deliver the other three to the station. The john goes to the station, too. If he has no warrants, I'll press charges for armed assault." I must admit, I'm impressed by that one. "Hector, call my sister and get her here now. Ranger, get your lawyer on the phone. Have him arrange a meeting with Val, Kloughn and Georgia. I'm going to see if Val will take the kids for now. We'll need temporary custody paperwork, at the very least."

It's a good plan. Her sister is good with children. They'll be well cared for by Val and Kloughn. I nod my assent and reach for my cell. Hector's already on his, walking down the hall to deal with the people in the living room. Steph pulls out her phone while I'm on hold for the lawyer. I raise an eyebrow. "Calling my mother. If I don't ask for her help, I'll never hear the end of it – especially since I didn't let her dress me like a marshmallow or an eggplant." She's on to something, there. Maybe it'll buy some forgiveness for the wedding.

"Mom?" Pause. "Yes, I'm back." Pause. "Mom, I need some help." Pause. "No, I'm not leaving him! I need some help with two kids." Pause. "NO. I'M. NOT. PREGNANT." Through gritted teeth. Pause. "_Mom._ Will you help me or not?" Pause. Sigh. Longer pause. "Mom. I have two children who need a place to stay. I'm going to ask Val to take them, but they don't have enough room at their place. I need you to go find them a bigger house." Pause. "At least four bedrooms and two bathrooms." Pause. "I'm paying, Mom." What did she just say? Pause. "Price? I've got two hundred fifty thousand for a down payment. Make sure they can handle the mortgage on whatever's left." What was that down payment figure? Pause. "I need it done yesterday. The sooner we can close, the better." Pause. "Fine. We'll be there for dinner Sunday. Bye." She closes her phone with a roll of her eyes.

I look at her. Did she just offer two hundred fifty large for a down payment on a house for her sister? "You got that kind of cash, Babe?" If she doesn't, I'll cover it.

She nods. "I've banked my salary for the past year and most of the bond money. I've dumped some into long term CDs and the rest in a high yield savings account. I have half a million set by, but they're going to need furniture, too." I feel my jaw drop. She's never been a saver. I look at her, dumbfounded. "Ranger, did you really think even _I _could spend that much on shoes and Victoria's Secret? Besides, Val and Albert will never make enough to send three kids to college. I was planning on helping out." Honestly I hadn't really thought about what she did with her money. It's hers. Come to think of it, I hadn't really thought much about how much she was making going after higher-bond FTA's.

"Never really thought about it, Babe. I'll cover all the attorney's fees, then. We'll have to bring in a third attorney to represent Georgia."

Steph groans. "Call The Dick. He was a lousy husband, but he's a good lawyer."

I make the call and fill Dickey in on the details. He agrees to represent Georgia for both the custody issue and the criminal charges. A meeting with all parties is arranged and scheduled to take place in two hours.

Hector, Steph and I pack up the kids' stuff. Georgia digs out necessary documents like birth certificates. Once we have everything belonging to the children packed up, we start on the other rooms.

Maybe half an hour later, Val arrives with Kloughn. Steph explains the situation. Val and Kloughn are nodding. I notice that Kloughn has baby Lisa in one of those backpack things. She is happily pulling his hair. He doesn't seem to notice. They follow Steph to Georgia's room. Hector and I follow, too.

Steph introduces everyone. The kids go to Val willingly enough. They're a little more reserved with Kloughn. I can't say I'm surprised. There's probably never been a stable male in their lives.

"Babe, I'm going to bring the kids' stuff down to the minivan."

"Okay."

"I'll help Ranger," Hector says, grabbing a box.

Kloughn hands me his keys. Hector and I get the first load into the van. He stops and looks at me. "You okay?"

Huh? "Yeah, why?"

"I saw the look on her face when that bastard grabbed her." Oh. Shit. 

"I wanted to kill him."

Hector nods. "Me, too. But you can't live her life for her."

"I know. I don't know how you do it every day."

"You really want to know?" Hector looks very serious. I nod, not sure I mean it. "With all the shit that happens to her, she never gets hurt bad. I figure God won't let her die. Too many people like her die, and there'd be only people like you and me left."

He's right. She's the light that people like Hector and me search for in our darkness. If too many lights go out, only darkness will be left. It's true that she never gets seriously hurt. Stitches. Burns. Fractures. Tetanus shots. Bumps. Scrapes. Antibiotics. Bruises. She's rarely even kept overnight. "Good way to look at it."

Hector shakes his head. "The _only_ way to look at it."

He's right.

It feels much later than one in the afternoon. The apartment was packed up by the guys after they returned from the station accompanied by Zero and Ram, who were unable to resist an opportunity to tease Steph about knocking out the john after he grabbed her. Steph and I took Georgia to meet with the lawyers, Val and Albert. Hector had taken the kids – including Baby Lisa - to Mrs. Plum, who was waiting at Val's home, watching the children. A custody agreement was made. A hearing in Family Court has been arranged for Friday morning, so that everything will be legal.

Once the meeting was done, Steph and I took Georgia to the police station. Dickey followed us there, arranging for Georgia to 'turn herself in' and immediately going on record as her attorney.

We arrived back at the office twenty minutes ago. We hit the control room for reports. Tank is still dealing with everything that doesn't specifically require me. I think I'm going to leave him in charge until we get through court on Friday. Hopefully, I can convince Steph that she doesn't need to go back to work until I do. I want her more or less to myself just a bit longer.

When we walk into the apartment, I stop so fast that Steph walks into my back.

"Oomph! What'd you stop for?" I hear from behind me. I step aside, so she can look into the apartment. "Holy shit!"

The guys brought her birthday gifts here after the party Friday night. With the wedding, she hadn't had time to open any of them. There were a lot of them. Over the past few days, though, more gifts have clearly been added. Some are obviously birthday gifts, while others are wrapped in wedding paper. There is a veritable mountain of gift wrapped packages and gift bags. It fills one whole side of the entryway, and I can't see an end, since the pile turns the corner into the living room. "Definitely, Babe."

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry! Where do we start?"

I have no clue. "How about we sort it all out after lunch?"

"Lunch?" Food: A direct line to her brain.

"I'll call Ella." Which is exactly what I do. We eat lunch in the dining room, because the coffee table is buried. So is the couch.

When we're finished, we begin the process of sorting. It takes us three hours. We have placed birthday gifts in the living room, since there were more of them there to begin with. So far as I can tell, that is where the birthday gift pile originated. Wedding gifts have been moved to the dining room. Even as we sorted, more arrived.

In the end, the two piles are close to even, numbers-wise. I'm more than slightly stunned. I never envisioned anyone sending wedding gifts when we essentially eloped. I'm admittedly curious about who sent them, but not so much what they are.

I am, however, curious to see what Steph got for birthday gifts. I'm particularly looking forward to Lula's, Connie's, and Grandma Mazur's gifts. I'm hoping the birthday pile gets opened first, just to see those gifts. "Which pile do you want to start with, Steph?"

"I have no idea." She's flopped down on the newly cleared couch.

"Why don't you start with your birthday gifts, since they're right here?" See how clever I am? I offer her the path of least exertion – her favorite.

"Good idea." She pulls over the gift bag nearest to her. It's Grandma Mazur's, and the bag is big enough to hold a microwave oven. "Oh. My. God." She's lifted the tissue paper and turned purple.

"Anything good, Babe?" Wordlessly, she holds the bag out to me – using both hands. I take it, noting that it's surprisingly heavy. I look inside. It's filled nearly to the top with individually wrapped flavored condoms and massage oils like the cherry one Steph once brought home from Pleasure Treasures. "Interesting," I manage to choke out without laughing. Grandma Mazur is apparently under the impression that we do nothing but have sex. There must be a thousand condoms in that bag.

Steph looks at me. "Not bad? At least my mother didn't see it!" I can't help it any longer. I burst out laughing. Steph looks at me for a minute, then joins me. "D-d-d-doesn't she th-th-think we do anything else?" I'm laughing too hard to answer her. Maybe it would be best for her to open Lula's and Connie's a bit later.

I rummage through the pile and find the gifts from her parents, nieces and sister. Those should be safe. They are; gift certificates to Macy's, Pino's, and Mr. Alexander's. The vast majority of gifts are similar: gift certificates to places at the mall and restaurants. All of Trenton knows what she likes: food and shopping.

Juan and Hector got her lotion and shower gel from Bath & Body works. It's called White Tea & Ginger. The card says that what they've bought her will compliment the Bvlgari that I use. I open a bottle of the shower gel and sniff it. They're right. I like it when Steph uses my shower gel, but I like the light clean scent of the White Tea even better. Steph takes the open bottle from me and smells it. "Mmm… I like this! They're right – it'll go well with the Bvlgari," she says. I make a mental note to buy more.

She opens Lula's gift a little nervously. Can't say I blame her after Grandma's gift. She starts to giggle and pulls out a red scrap of spandex. She holds it up. I think it's supposed to be a dress, but it won't cover much of anything. And whatever it does cover might as well be bare because it's going to be beyond skintight. No way to get so much as a thong under that. I swallow hard, thinking about the way it will show off Steph's curves… "Try it on, Steph." My voice is husky. She looks up at me. I let the desire I feel for her show in my eyes. She grabs the dress and runs to change.

When she comes back to the living room, I'm pleased to see how right I was about the way it would fit her. She's not wearing anything under it. The hemline barely covers her ass. The neck is a deep V that exposes the curves of her breasts – and her bellybutton. The back of the dress plunges all the way to the small of her back. It looks as though it's been skillfully painted on.

"Like what you see?" she asks coyly.

All I can do is nod. I gather her into my arms and kiss her deeply. "Wanna nap, Steph?"

She giggles. "No, but you can take me to bed."

I take her to bed. Who am I to tell her no?


	5. Chapter 5

_Friday morning…_

We on our way to court for the custody hearing. Steph and I need to be there for Val and Kloughn, not to mention Georgia and the kids. My lawyer handled everything with The Dick. All the dotted lines have been signed, the i's dotted and the t's crossed. The hearing is mostly a formality.

Mrs. Plum found a house late yesterday afternoon. It's on the outskirts of The Burg. It's a single family home sitting on three quarters of an acre. It's two stories with a living room, dining room, kitchen, bathroom and small den on the first floor. The second floor holds five small bedrooms and a master bedroom with it's own bathroom. There are two additional bathrooms upstairs. The basement is finished and has a rec room, another bathroom and a laundry room. The kids will have to change schools, unfortunately. The asking price was three hundred two thousand. Mrs. Plum offered Steph's two hundred fifty grand in cash. The owners, who are elderly and had already moved to Florida, accepted. The deal will be closed Monday morning. We can start to move everyone in Monday afternoon.

I park the truck and we head into the courthouse. Val and Kloughn are waiting for us inside with Holly and Jakey. Georgia will be brought over from the lockup for the proceedings. She was unable to make bond. Personally, I'm not sure she tried very hard. I think Dickey advised her that if she stayed in jail, he could bargain for time served.

We enter the courtroom as a group. Georgia is already inside. The kids run to her. The judge allows her cuffs to be removed, so she can hug them both. Everyone takes their seats and the proceedings begin. Temporary custody of Jakey and Holly is awarded to Val and Albert. The judge asks what will happen once Georgia is released from prison.

Val and Albert look at each other. Georgia looks lost. The attorneys flip through paperwork, trying to see if we've worked that detail out yet. I stand up. The judge gives me permission to speak. "I'd like to offer Georgia a live-in position as a housekeeper in the apartment building that houses RangeMan employees. I'll pay her a fair salary and she'll have a three bedroom apartment."

I hear shocked gasps from everyone but the two attorneys, the bailiff and the judge. The judge agrees to allow that, providing that Georgia completes a drug treatment program during her incarceration and submits to random drug screening as part of her parole or probation. He notes that he will pass all pertinent information on to criminal court, so that when she comes to trial, it will be seen that she is already taking steps to change her life for the better.

We leave the courthouse when we're dismissed. Everyone's smiling and happy. Dickey meets us outside. He wants to tell us that Georgia's criminal trial is two weeks away; he invoked her right to a speedy trial. He's working on a plea bargain for her. "She knows a lot of stuff that the DAs office would love to learn. If I can use that information to bargain for a reduced sentence, I will. If not, I'm going to advise her to plead guilty. The judge she's going to be up in front of is usually lenient in cases like this."

"Thanks. Send me the bill," I say. I don't like the man – and not just because of what he did to Steph. He makes my skin crawl the way Vinnie does. After dealing with either of them, I feel the urge to bathe in Lysol.

Steph is leaning against the truck, smiling at me. "Thank you, Ranger."

"No problem, Babe." Anything for her. "Want to go to lunch at Shorty's?"

Her face lights up. She loves to go to Shorty's. He adores her and makes her anything she wants to eat. She joked that she wanted a steak one day. Steak is not on the menu at Shorty's. He stomped off to the kitchen, like usual. Then he sent the busboy to get the best steak the butcher had and made it for her. She was shocked when he put it down in front of her, complete with mashed potatoes and baby carrots. She'd stared at him. "What? You wanted steak. You work hard. You deserve steak!" he'd told her, then stalked back to his kitchen.

I've noticed a pattern of people around Steph: most all of them fall under her spell and want to feed her. Juan cooks for her. Shorty cooks for her. Ella loves to feed her. Her mother wants to feed her. The guys are always bringing her donuts or ice cream or candy bars.

Shorty, predictably, is thrilled to see her. He hugs and kisses both her cheeks, congratulating her on her marriage. When he lets her go, I get the same treatment. He seats us and asks us what we'd like to eat. I order my usual. Steph turns that killer smile on him and tells him to bring her whatever he's got ready. Shorty grins and stomps off into the kitchen. Ten minutes later, she's eating fresh manicotti. One of her favorites – but not on Shorty's menu. I look at him and raise an eyebrow. "What? She married you. She deserves manicotti!" I laugh. He stomps back into the kitchen, only to return with a small cake a few minutes later.

"Cake? I love you, Shorty!"

He sets the cake down in front of her and I look at it. It says 'Congratulations!.' Shorty hands Steph a knife and a fork for the cake. He doesn't bother with a plate. "Happy birthday, Steph. Happy wedding to you both. I know how you love cake. I figured you wouldn't mind another." He's blushing furiously.

She laughs and thanks him again. When we're finished, we head back to RangeMan.

We're in the elevator, heading up to the seventh floor. She's leaning back against the wall with her eyes closed. Steph heaves a big sigh. "What a week!"

"You okay, Babe?"

"Yeah. I just feel like haven't stopped in weeks. It took me two days to open birthday presents. We still haven't opened any of the wedding presents – and more keep showing up! Court. Work. It feels like I'm on a psycho merry-go-round that keeps speeding up instead of slowing down to let people off."

Welcome to my life with you, I think. I say, "Know how you feel, Babe," as I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her close.

Her cell rings. "Yo." I love it when she does that.

"Yeah." Pause. "I don't know Lula. I'm tired." Pause. "I could." Pause. "Hang on." She covers the mouthpiece and sighs. "Lula wants me to go out with her and the girls tonight to celebrate."

"What are you celebrating?"

"Our marriage."

"They want details of the honeymoon, huh?"

"Got it in one."

"Want to go?"

She sighs again. "I guess it's better to get it over with." She returns the phone to her ear. "What time?" Pause. "Okay. I'll pick you guys up at the office." Pause. Bye." She looks at me. "Any chance of me borrowing the Suburban tonight?"

"No problem, Babe. What time are you picking up Lula?"

"I'm meeting them at the office at seven."

"Who's going?"

"Connie, Lula, Mary Lou, and Val. With any amount of luck, they'll leave Grandma out of this." One can only hope.

"Want a driver for the night?" And he'll double as a body guard, but I'm not telling her that. Of course, if Grandma's going, getting someone to volunteer will be difficult…

She hesitates. "I…"

"You're tired, Babe. No telling how late you'll be out."

"I guess…" I can tell she doesn't want the driver/bodyguard.

"You can pick the driver."

Her eyebrows shoot up. They do that often when she's given choices, like she can't quite believe I'm giving her options. As usual, once her surprise is gone she agrees to what I want. "Okay. Is Cal available?"

Cal is a good choice. He's huge and has that damned tattoo. He looks scary enough to keep even the most insane at bay. He's a softie, though, and Steph has him wrapped around her little finger. I'd rather she took Lester or Bobby, or even Junior, but this is the price for keeping her happy and safe. I'm willing to pay it.

"I'll take care of it while you take a nap, Babe."

"Thanks."

She heads for the bedroom. I call Cal and then follow her.

I do not want to get out of bed. As it was, we fell into bed in our suits, too tired to even strip them off. We simply crawled into bed and pulled the covers up. We're laying on our sides, Steph's back to my front. My arms are around her and my leg is thrown over hers. My cheek is resting on her head. With every breath I take, I inhale the scent of her shampoo and shower gel.

The alarm goes off before I can turn it off. Steph pulls away from me. She sits up and reaches for the alarm clock. She grabs it and yanks hard enough to pull the plug out the socket. When it's loose, she throws it across the room and flops back down on the bed. "Babe."

"Ranger."

"You killed the alarm clock."

"It deserved to die. I was having a great dream and it interrupted me."

"Knew there'd be a good explanation, Babe."

She grunts in response. "What time is it?"

"Don't know, Babe. You killed the clock," I tease before looking at my watch. "It's four forty-five."

"Damn. I was hoping to go back to sleep."

Me, too. "We can do that, Babe."

She snorts at me this time. "Not if I want to live. Lula will murder me if I don't show up. She seemed particularly annoyed that we bolted and went off-line after the party."

I figured she - and everyone else - would be – that's one of the reasons I did it. If we'd come home, we'd have had no peace at all. As it was, there were over three hundred messages on the voicemail at the apartment when we finally got home. Most of them were from her mother. I'd had Hector screen the voicemail on our cell phones while we were in court this morning. I get out of bed, pulling her with me. "Come on. You have time for a quick shower. I'll pull out something for you to wear."

I pull out clean jeans and a tight sweater. I add a slim fitting turtleneck. I pull out socks. I pick the smallest, laciest bra and panty set I can find.

I'm a bad man. To prove it, I thread a bug into her bra in front of the under wire. Not because I don't trust her, but because I know that trouble can always find her. God knows she won't call for help until she's desperate. Granted, Hector is usually on hand to help get her out of trouble, but it's just the girls tonight – and Cal.

If she doesn't hurry in the damned shower, she's going to be late. Primarily because I'm going to join her in there….

_Friday Night…_

Cal and Steph just left. They took the Suburban. Cal is – obviously – not drinking tonight. The ladies, no doubt will get sloshed. I'm going to the control room so I can listen to their evening… And arrange for back up if the shit hits the fan.

Honestly, I'm also curious. I wonder how she sees us, sees me. I know she's a far more private person than most people realize, and I know that she's going to be facing round one of the Trenton Inquisition tonight. I wonder how's she's going to get out of telling all. If they bug her too much, I'll call Cal and have him interrupt the interrogation. I'd rather not do that, though, if for no other reason than I don't want Steph to get an inkling that she's carrying a bug as well as the tracker she knows is in her cell.

I settle in at the console farthest from the door and put on a headset. No need for everyone on the floor to hear this. I punch in the code for the bug and sit back in the chair to listen.

For a good ten minutes, there's silence. Not even the radio. Steph – as always – is the one to break the silence.

"Thank you, Cal. I know this is going to be a miserable night for you."

"I don't mind, Baby doll. I needed a night out of the office." He's lying to protect her feelings. He goes out all the time. He's rarely in the building.

"I still appreciate this. You could have gone out with the boys."

"No, I couldn't have gone out with the boys. I didn't have any plans tonight." And even if he had, he wouldn't tell her.

"Thanks anyway, then."

"Welcome."

Silence falls again.

"Holy shit!" Cal's voice cracks. I hear brakes scream. This is bad. I force myself to sit and wait, tell myself he can handle what ever is going on. My hand moves to my cell, ready to call in backup.

"What? Haven't you ever seen a lady in a dress?" Ah. Grandma Mazur. My hand leaves my cell. I can just about imagine the dress.

"Uh…" Cal must be at a loss for words. "Good evening, ladies." His voice cracks again and I stifle a laugh.

A chorus of 'Hello's' fills my ears, along with a 'Wonder how nice his package is?' from Grandma. I stifle another laugh.

"Where to, ladies?" Cal has his voice back under control. That's good. Never let them see – or hear – your fear.

""The Liberty Ballroom," Lula replies. I cringe inwardly and contemplate sending guys on ahead to back up Cal. I don't want her to think I'm checking up on her, but I want to make sure she's safe. I go over my options. Send my guys in. Call for contract workers. Call… Morelli.

I pick up my cell and call Morelli. She won't suspect him of being there to watch over her.

"Joe."

"Ranger? Is Steph okay?"

"She's fine. I need a favor."

"A favor?" He sounds both surprised and suspicious.

"Steph's out with the girls tonight…"

"Forget it." Funny, Steph never complained about him having ESP…

"I've got Cal with them, but they're going to the Liberty Ballroom."

"Fuck."

"Pretty much."

He heaves an exasperated sigh. "I'll go over there for a drink. You know, today is one of those days I'm glad she's your problem now." He disconnects.

I wonder how many days he's glad lately. For a while, he behaved like a real ass. At our wedding, he redeemed himself completely in my eyes. I laughed when we returned from our honey moon and I found a case of Maalox on my office with a note from him: _Trust me. You'll be needing this. _So far, I hadn't, but that could change any day.

"Is Sally playing tonight?" Steph wants to know. I hear giggling. "Is that a yes?"

"Yeah!" Lula giggles.

"Why aren't you singing with them tonight, Lula?" Steph asks.

"I'm celebratin' with my friend tonight, that's why."

I can hear the smile in Steph's voice when she thanks Lula.

They gossip for the rest of the ride. I hear doors open and close. They've arrived. I can tell the second the doors to the bar open. Even through the headset, the music is loud enough to make my teeth rattle. Lucky Cal, I think.

The girls order Margaritas. Well, all except Grandma Mazur. She orders a sex-on-the-beach. I'm not surprised.

I hear the sounds of chairs scraping. They must be sitting down at a table. I wait for the questions to start. Of course, Grandma leads the way.

"Is he as good in bed as he looks out of it?"

"Grandma!"

"Well, is he?"

"That's private."

Connie speaks up. "How private?"

"Very."

"We'll just keep feeding her booze 'til she talks!" Lula sounds very sure of herself.

"No, we won't!" Steph doesn't sound very convinced, though.

"Where'd you go after the wedding?" Mary Lou this time.

"The Batcave."

"OOOO! Where is it?" Val.

"Not in Trenton." So far, Steph is holding her own. I'm proud of her.

Groans fill my ears, along with unintelligible muttering from the ladies at the table.

"What's the Batcave like?" Back to Lula.

"It's a lot like the apartment. Cool and serene. Tasteful. Calming."

"Who cooked?" This from Val.

"Ella."

"You took Ella on your honeymoon?" Connie says, aghast.

"NO! She packed us food before we left. Ranger arranged it."

"Must be nice to have a maid and a cook." Val sounds a little bitter.

Steph is quiet for a minute. "Makes up for the garbage, the betting, the insults, and the nagging," she says softly.

No one says anything for a few minutes after that. My cell rings, so I take off my headset to answer it. "Yo."

"Morelli's here." It's Cal.

"I sent him."

"Don't trust me?" Cal's pissed.

"Don't trust the clientele, Cal."

"Okay." Cal disconnects and I replace my headset.

"So how did you like your birthday gifts?" Lula's giggling again. I hear the sounds of drinks being set on the table and a round of thanks. They must have ordered round two while I was talking to Cal.

Sure enough, Steph's voice is a little slurred when she answers. "Lotsa fun! That dress was something else…" I thought so, too.

"Didja put any of the stuff I sent over to use?" Grandma demands.

I can picture Steph's face going red. We did use some of them – and we had a lot of fun. "Uh…" That seems to be all she can get out.

"Have you found any use for my gift yet?" Connie asks. I rack my brain, trying to recall what she sent. For the life of me, I can't remember.

"Not yet. I'm waiting on that one."

Connie snorts. "For what?"

"Dinner with my parents."

"Um… I don't think using that in front of your parents is the best idea." I'm dying of curiosity.

"AFTER! I mean, after my parents."

"Why?"

"'Cause I think he'll need it then." What the Hell did Connie give her? And how had I missed something like …. Whatever it was?

"What'd you get her?" Lula wants to know.

Steph and Connie dissolve into giggles. For a solid minute, I can hear nothing but their laughter.

"I- I – I went t-t-t-to P-P-Pleasure T-Treasures!" Connie shrieks.

"So did I!" Grandma sounds pleased with herself.

"Well?" Val sounds impatient.

"The Art of Sexual Massage!" Connie shouts. I make a mental note to hunt down Connie's gift.

"Don't you mean Sensual Massage?" Mary Lou asks.

"NO!" Connie and Steph shout together. For a second, nothing but the sound of the music reaches my ears. Then the girls erupt into laughter. It goes on and on. I hear the sound of something hitting the floor, and their laughter gets louder. My cell rings again. "Yo."

"Steph's on the floor. Should I pick her up?"

I laugh. "Only if she can't get up on her own."

Cal sighs. "Did I piss you off to get this assignment?" He sounds annoyed and a touch worried.

"Steph asked for you."

"Oh. Okay." Cal's voice holds relief and – pride? - as he disconnects.

Nothing else interesting happens at the bar. For that, I am grateful. When they leave the bar, I head upstairs. Cal drives everyone home and returns to the office with Steph. He calls when he reaches the garage. "Do you want to come get her, or should I bring her up?"

"Why can't she come up on her own?" Had I missed something?

"She claims she has no feet and is refusing to get out of the car because she can't walk without feet."

I laugh so hard I can't answer him for a minute. "I'll come get her." I chuckle all the way down to the garage.

"Ranger."

"Babe."

"Cal won't gimme my feet back!" She's indignant.

"How much did she drink?" I ask Cal. She's totally wasted.

"One and a half margaritas." She's a cheap drunk.

"Where's my feet?" Now she's getting pissed.

"Upstairs, Babe." Seems like a reasonable way to get her up there.

"How'm I gonna get there with no feet?" Her eyes fill with tears.

"I'll take you, Babe." Cal is on the floor laughing by now. I'm having a hard time not following his lead. I slide my arms under her and lift her out of the Suburban. She immediately closes her eyes and passes out.

Cal looks at her and shakes his head. "She's going to have one Hell of a hangover," he says.

I nod. "I can fix that." I'll have The Cure waiting for her when she wakes up in the morning. I'll also have aspirin and donuts.

"Goodnight, man," Cal says as he steps off the elevator at his floor.

"Night." The door closes and the elevator begins to rise again.

I get her into the bathroom and clean her up, then strip her down and get her into bed. Cal's right – she's going to have a nasty hangover.

I slide into bed next to her and gather her into my arms. She sighs and cuddles closer. "Thank you," she slurs.

"No problem."

"You make it all better…"

I hope I do. And I hope I always can.


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: This section contains discussion of permanent birth control. If such things offend you, you might want to skip this chapter, as well as the rest of this story. This will come up more than once. Also, this is an angsty chapter. L**

_Sunday night dinner…. _

Steph chose the Turbo tonight. I let her choose the car and then I let her drive. I don't do that often, but she needed to have control over something tonight. God knows she'll have none once we walk through the door at her parents'. I look at their house. Scratch that. Before she walks in the door. Mrs. Plum and Grandma Mazur are standing outside, in front of the house, instead of in the door way like usual.

Shit. Welcome to Hungarian Inquisition.

Steph sets the parking brake and cuts the engine. She looks over and sees the Welcome Witches. "Fuck." She bangs her head on the steering wheel.

I aim for levity. "Now, Babe?"

She punches me in the shoulder. "I wish." I agree. She sighs. "I guess we have to get out of the car."

"Might be a good idea."

With a roll of her eyes, she opens the door and gets out of the car. I'm waiting for her on the sidewalk – between her and her mother. Before Steph even gets around the car to the sidewalk, her mother's mouth starts.

"Stephanie! How could you do this to me? No notice, no warning, no engagement announcement! Everyone is calling, asking questions that I can't answer! It's _embarrassing!_"

"MOM!" Steph shouts. Her voice echoes down the street. Her mother stops mid-rant. Steph grabs my hand and walks past her mother into the house. She sits us on the couch.

Grandma Mazur follows us in and hovers behind the couch. "How'd you like your birthday present, Steph? Got any left?" I know she asked Steph this Friday night. I assume she's asking again for my benefit – or Mrs. Plum's. She winks at me. I'm not sure whether to be pleased that she thinks we've got that kind of stamina or run for my life.

"Grandma!" Steph's voice is strained.

Grandma's face falls. She looks at me, clearly disappointed. "It _looks_ like such a nice package. I'd have made sure we used them all!" She leers at me again. "Or are you working on little ones already?"

The urge to run increases.

Mrs. Plum comes around the corner, obviously having heard what Grandma said. "_Mother."_

Grandma stomps off to the kitchen. Unfortunately, Mrs. Plum doesn't follow her. I decide to ignore her and turn to Frank.

"How are you Frank?" He grunts at me. I'm willing to bet he's been through a week of Hell. "The boys are having a poker game at RangeMan Friday night. We'd like for you to join us."

Frank's face lights up. Clearly, this past week has been worse than I thought. "What time?" There's no hiding the eagerness in his voice.

"The plan is for people to start gathering in the conference room around four."

"I'll be there." He turns back to the television, smiling.

When we leave here, I'm going to have to arrange a Friday night poker game at RangeMan.

Mrs. Plum is still standing by the door, fuming. I can tell she'd like nothing better than to lace into Steph and rip her apart. She won't dare do it to me, though, so I decide to turn her wrath on me.

"Mrs. Plum, are we having pot roast?" I'm baiting her, waiting for the attack, diverting it from Steph and drawing the fire toward me.

She turns on me and opens her mouth. "How could you let her do this?"

"It's what we wanted."

"What about her family? What about what we wanted?"

"You were all there at the party. It was our wedding and it was what _we _wanted." Keeping my voice level has become an effort. There's something about this woman that makes me want to scream at her. How on earth had a woman like this produced a woman like Steph?

"It wasn't a proper wedding!"

I raise an eyebrow. "It was perfectly legal. Plenty of witnesses. Family and friends in attendance. Sounds like a proper wedding to me."

"There were no flowers! No attendants! No cake! No church!"

"Steph isn't a flowers sort of woman. There were attendants: Hector and Tank. I saw cake. We're not religious."

Mrs. Plum has turned an unbecoming shade of purple. "You call Hector and Tank proper attendants? Her father should have given her away!"

Before I can open my mouth to reply, Frank speaks up. "I already gave her away once. It was Hector's turn."

Now she turns on him. _"How can you say that?"_ she shrieks at him.

He shrugs. "It's true." He turns back to the television.

Mrs. Plum turns back to me. I wonder if she's going to have a stroke. Her blood pressure must be through the roof. Steph is watching us both with a slightly dazed expression on her face. "You wanted Steph married. She is."

Steph leans over and whispers in my ear, "Hoorah!"

Mrs. Plum storms out of the room. Peace at last.

Dinner hits the table twenty minutes late. It's the first time a dinner I had at The Plum's was overcooked.

While we eat, Mrs. Plum uses a different weapon in her Arsenal of Agony. She aims at Steph this time. "When do you plan to have children, if you're not already pregnant?"

Steph groans. "I'm not pregnant. I don't want to be, either."

Her mother's jaw drops. "You don't want to be pregnant?" she asks in the same tone of voice Steph uses when there's no dessert.

"No. I don't."

"Well, how will you get babies? Adopt?"

"Maybe I don't want children, Mom."

"How can you not want children?" She turns to me. "How can she not want children? Don't you want children?"

This is difficult. I don't honestly want more children. I already have one I rarely see and couldn't keep safe. I also value my time with Steph far too much to share her. But, if Steph wants kids, I'll make sure she gets them any way she wants. I'd offered to get her pregnant once. Without a second thought, she'd turned me down flat. I'd been relieved, even if I had wanted to get her in my bed any way I could. "I already have a daughter. Whether or not Steph wants kids is a personal matter."

Her mouth opens and closes several times. "But she needs children. How can she be a woman without children? She doesn't even take care of your house!"

"She doesn't need children to be a woman. Trust me, I know. I like her not taking care of my house. Frees her up for other activities." I give her the wolf smile. Her eyes go huge. Her face turns purple. Grandma giggles. Frank stares at his overdone pot roast. Steph keeps eating as though nothing has happened.

The rest of the dinner passes in silence. Dessert is chocolate pudding that no one seems to enjoy – even Steph.

I decide to make an effort to defuse Mrs. Plum's anger before we leave. I am well aware that if I don't, Steph will be the one to bear her wrath.

"Mrs. Plum, I would like to thank you for taking care of locating a house for Val and Albert."

She looks at me. She looks startled. "You're welcome. Thank you for buying it. They could never have afforded that place without your money."

My money? "It's not my money that will be paying for the house. It's Stephanie's."

Mrs. Plum's jaw hits the floor and she turns to stare at her youngest daughter. "You're paying? Where'd you get that find of money?" Her head swivels back toward me. "Did you give her the money?"

"Mom, I earned the money. I get a salary from RangeMan and half of every bounty. I've been saving my money to help pay for the girls' education."

"You saved money?" Mrs. Plum is dumbfounded.

"Yes, I saved the money. It's easy when I don't pay rent or utilities and have a steady paycheck. Oh, and I haven't had to replace my car lately."

Frank and Grandma are grinning at Mrs. Plum's consternation – and Steph's explanation.

Mrs. Plum shifts gears. "You should at least have a reception." She's looking at me when she says it.

I open my mouth to tell her it's up to Steph, but she beats me to the punch. "I don't know, Mom. Most people have already sent gifts."

Her mother turns to look at her. "Then we'll tell people that in lieu of gifts, you want them to donate to a charity."

I must confess, it's a great idea. I wouldn't have thought of it. From the look on Steph's face, she's thinking the same things I am . "Okay, Mom. You plan it any way you want. I'll get you a list of charities RangeMan supports. Send me the bills."

Mrs. Plum looks shocked that Steph gave in so easily. I'm a little surprised myself. Steph's wearing a huge grin as we leave.

_Sunday evening…_

We haven't spoken about what her mother said about children tonight. I can see something about it is preying on her, though. And I'm pretty sure I know what's on her mind. I called Ella from the Plum house and arranged to bribe her with pineapple upside down cake to try to get it out of her. If I can't, I'll see what Hector can do. If she won't tell me something, she'll usually tell him.

I settle us on the couch. I've brought the cake and a fork. I didn't bother with a plate. She starts to eat, focused on the cake. "Babe, what's on your mind?"

"Huh?"

"Smell somethin' burnin'."

"Oh." She keeps shoveling cake into her mouth.

"Babe."

"My mother…"

"What bothered you this time?" I know damned well what bothered her. Kids. Her mother spent the evening harping on kids. Since we left the Plum house an hour ago, she called here a dozen times and left messages about baby showers, preschools and college funds. I have no idea how many messages she left on Steph's cell. She left eight on mine.

Steph is staring off into space with a strange expression on her face. I can't read it at all. "Earth to Babe."

"Huh?" She looks at me. "Sorry." She shakes her head.

"Spill." She stares at me. A thousand emotions, each with its own expressions, cross her face. I still can't get a handle on what she's thinking. "Is this about kids?"

Steph's face flushes and I know I've hit the nail on the head. "I guess," she whispers.

"And?"

"Am I really less of a woman if I don't have kids?"

Slowly, relief creeps into me. "Not in my eyes."

She sighs. "I don't want kids," she mumbles. She's not looking at me. She's focused on some point on the floor.

I put down the cake and haul her into my lap. "Fine with me, Babe." I kiss her lightly on the lips.

She finally looks me in the eye. "Really?"

"Steph… I never really wanted kids. I already have a daughter who I don't even know. I don't want more kids."

I see relief in her eyes. "I never really wanted kids. Not even when I was little. Val wanted baby dolls for presents, and she dreamed of the day she'd have the real thing. I wanted Wonder Woman Underoos and dreamed of the day I'd be an Intergalactic Princess."

I chuckle softly. "I like your dreams better than Val's, Steph."

She smiles. "Me, too. All her dreams got her were a divorce, three kids and Kloughn."

"And what did your dreams get you, Babe?"

"You. Hector. Lula. Connie. The Merry Men. A job I love. Independence."

"Yeah… You are a little independent."

Giggles. "A little?"

She knows damned well she's a lot of everything. And she knows I love it, too. "How do you want to work this no kids thing, Babe?" If she asked, I'd get a vasectomy. I cringed just thinking about it, though…

"I don't know. I don't want to be on pills forever. The patches are no good for me. They don't stick to my skin right with all the physical activity every day like wrestling with skips, exercising, Vaseline and multiple showers."

"There are other options, Babe."

"I know. There's the shot, that under the skin thing, an IUD, and a few other long term things. What worries me is that none of them are foolproof. Worse, some lose their effectiveness when you take antibiotics." That would be bad. She's on antibiotics fairly regularly with the amount of damage she takes and how she gets damaged. It's why we keep condoms around even though she's on the pill.

"We can discuss this with a doctor, Babe."

She shakes her head. "No. I know what I want. I want permanent."

She does? Crap. I better make arrangements for rubber donuts filled with ice…. "What, Babe?" I manage to ask without my voice cracking.

"I want to have my tubes tied." Her voice doesn't waver or crack. I decide she's braver than me.

"Babe, you sure you want that?" I'm a little worried. That's a surgical procedure. This is Steph. I can already envision complications.

"Yeah. I thought a lot about it. I talked to Dr. Clark at my RangeMan physical last month, too." She says the last part to her lap, not me. It's obvious she expects me to blow up.

"As long as that's what you want, Babe. We can make the arrangements together, or you can let me know what you need and I'll make it happen."

"I'll need someone to drop me off and pick me up the day of the surgery."

Right. Like I'm going to dump her off at the hospital alone. I shake my head. "No, you don't Babe." She looks at me. "I'll take you, stay with you, and bring you home when it's time." I kiss her again.

She smiles. "I won't be able to do my usual job for two weeks, either."

"No problem. You can do surveillance, computer searches and paperwork." I'm not fool enough to tell her how much I hate paperwork, and how much I'll enjoy the break.

I get the killer smile this time. "You're happy to get out of doing paperwork."

She's got me there. I flash her a smile. "Me?" I get serious again. "Babe, be sure about this. It's a big deal."

She looks me in the eye. "It is a big deal. That's why it worth doing it right."

_Monday morning…_

We're going to the bank, to get the money for the house. I assumed we'd get a cashier's check and be on our way. I should have known better.

"My mother said _cash_, Ranger."

She's killing me. "Babe, that's a lot of money to be carrying around." God only knows what will happen with her and that much cash. We're due for a disaster – the wedding went off without a hitch. I've got guards lined up, but I had to try to get her to agree to a check one more time. At least.

Her hands are on her hips. Her eyes are narrowed. The foot is tapping. Shit. "I promised cash."

I let her think I'm giving in. "Fine. We'll get cash. But we're taking guards."

She smirks. "Okay." She's won and she knows it. She always wins. The good thing is, we're usually after the same thing, so really we both win.

I call the control room and arrange for the spare bodies and metal brief case (with a wrist cuff and a security code) to meet us in the garage.

Tank, Hal, and Hector are waiting for us in the garage. Unlike last week's show of force, they're all dressed in uniforms with their weapons concealed. The suits are also concealing body armor. Hector has the briefcase. The bank has been notified that we'll be coming for a large amount of cash with a security contingent. To improve our odds, we'll be arriving before the bank actually opens.

I get behind the wheel of a new Ford Expedition. The windows are tinted so dark that they're technically illegal. Steph gets into the passenger seat. The guys get in the back seat. Lester and Bobby are already concealed in the cargo area.

I'm nervous as Hell, going over all the possibilities in my head. I drive to the bank in my 'zone,' my mind never stopping. I park as close to the doors as possible. We get out of the Expedition and head for the bank. The armored car that is no doubt carrying the extra cash for this withdrawal is parked in front of the bank. The doors are still locked. Steph knocks and waves to someone inside I can't see.

The doors are opened by the branch manager, who looks as nervous as I feel. We step inside and he locks the door behind us.

"Stephanie, are you sure you don't want a certified check? It's as good as cash, you know," he tells her. I can only hope she listens.

"Mr. Gianni, these people agreed to take a hundred thousand less than their asking price for cash. I'm not going to give them a check."

Mr. Gianni looks at me, clearly hoping I will reason with her. I simply stare back at the man with my blank face. He sighs. "Fine. You do realize we are not responsible once the funds have been transferred to you, Ms. Plum?"

That pisses her off. Bad move, pal. Here comes rhino mode. I take a step back. "Mr. Gianni," her tone is clipped, "I am not an imbecile. I understand how withdrawing money from my bank account works. That's why these lovely gentlemen have accompanied me. And if you're going to be formal after all these years, at least get my name right. It's Mrs. Manoso."

Mr. Gianni looks a little… _terrified_… as he scampers around to get the cash together. It's put into the briefcase and the case is double locked. It's then cuffed to Tank. Hopefully, his size will be a good deterrent.

After a brief discussion, we decide that I will get the SUV and pull it up to the door. Tank will exit the bank between Hal and Hector. Steph will bring up the rear. We all manage to get into the SUV without incident. I double check the doors, making sure they're all locked before I pull out of the parking lot.

We do a similar dance at the registry of deeds, where the transaction will take place and be recorded. Since there's no mortgage involved, there's far less paperwork involved. Less time, too. Blessedly, we turn over the cash without incident. I decide it must be another miracle. That makes two miracles in two weeks. For us, that's a record.

We leave the registry and head for home. We all need to change into work clothes and pick up the moving vans. Steph, Hector, and I are making a few stops before we meet up with everyone at the new house. As Steph pointed out, they'll be needing more furniture. Jakey and Holly have no bedroom furniture at all. The dining room table is too small and has too few chairs. A bigger living room set is needed. For that matter, Jakey and Holly have few toys and clothes. Something tells me we'll be buying out Baby Gap, Macy's children's department, and the toy stores.

Honestly, I'm not complaining. I'm also not letting Steph pay. I told Steph to leave the money remaining in her account for the college funds she wanted to start. She argued with me that it was her family. I argued that they were mine now, too. This one time, I won. That doesn't happen often.

The three of us hit the mall like a hurricane. Steph whips through the mall, picking stuff out for all five kids. She leaves the furniture store employees shocked and running to get the pieces she wants delivered late this afternoon. In a little under two hours, she has filled - and I mean _filled_ - two Broncos, the Navigator and the Expedition with clothing, bedding, toys, towels, toiletries and shoes. She has purchased a living room set, a dining room table that seats twelve with matching chairs, and seven bedroom sets – one for each of the kids, one for Val and Albert, and one for Georgia, when she's released. She got a pretty good discount for buying in bulk. Area rugs and bathmats, shower curtains and throw rugs are added to the tally.

Watching Steph shop is like seeing Lula dressed in spandex: you see it, but you're not sure you trust your eyes.

Once she's done shopping, we head for the new house. We unpack the SUV's and wait for the furniture delivery and the moving vans. We walk through the house, checking it all out. The strings I pulled with the electric, telephone, and gas company guaranteed that there would be heat, hot water, power, and telephone service without interruption. The cable company wasn't so easily persuaded; they won't be here until tomorrow.

The house is bigger than it looks from the outside. The bedrooms – while not huge – are big enough to fit a bed, dresser, toy box and desk with chair comfortably. They also have the added bonus of large closets. The master bedroom has a walk in closet. The bottom floor is an open floor plan except for the den. Steph bought office furniture for this room, so Albert can work from home. The rec room takes up three quarters of the basement. The laundry room also houses the furnace and hot water heater. Multiple bathrooms made this place even more appealing.

I have to admit, the house was a very good deal. Real estate in this neighborhood has been going up, and this is a big house with a huge lot for this area. If they get into financial trouble, Val and Kloughn will be able to get a home equity loan for twice what Steph paid for the house. It's a very good investment. I'll send Mrs. Plum a dozen roses with a thank you card tomorrow. Much as I don't like the way she treats Steph, I must admit that the woman managed to negotiate an excellent deal for this house.

By the time we finish checking the place out, the moving vans have arrived. While the guys and I set about unloading them, Val directs us to where things should go. In order to avoid hurt feelings over perceived favoritism, the kids are placed in bedrooms according to age, with the youngest ones closest to the master bed room and the older kids further down the hall. I admire Val's diplomacy.

As we unload the vans, I'm a little surprised by how very little the family of five – now seven – actually has. Suddenly, I'm glad that Steph bought so much new furniture and stuff. I decide to send over a few computers for the kids as a moving in gift. They'll need them for school, and the Kloughs can use whatever money they have for utilities and food. While I'm thinking of food, I call Ella and arrange for her to fill the refrigerator and pantry. As long as I'm spending money today, I tell her to pick up gift cards to Wal-Mart, the grocery store, the butcher, Macy's, Old Navy, and The Gap. I tell her that I want a thousand dollars worth of cards to each store. Ella tells me she'll take care of it and will arrive within two hours.

She's as good as her word, arriving on the heels of the furniture delivery. Hector, Steph and I help her unload two dozen bags of groceries. Once they're all in the house, we go to work putting it all away. Val, Albert, and Mrs. Plum seem a little shocked by Steph's generosity. When they thanked her, she waved her hand and told them it was no problem, I paid for it all. When they thanked me, I pointed out that Steph bought the house, Mrs. Plum picked it out, Steph did all the shopping this morning and Ella brought the groceries. I placed the gift cards in an envelope and left it on Val's dresser, with a note that she should let me know if she needs anything. After all, it's indirectly my fault that they now have two more mouths to feed, two more bodies to clothe, etc.

Once everything is in its place and the boxes have all been unpacked, Steph orders a dozen pizzas from Pino's. I send Tank and Lester to get them, along with soda and beer. I find Steph in the living room, leaning on the wall. She's watching the kids open the bags of toys and clothing she bought them. There's a smile on her face. I step up behind her and slide my arms around her waist, pulling her into me.

"You okay, Babe?" I ask, kissing her head.

"Yeah. Thank you for everything, Ranger."

"Didn't do anything but sign credit card slips, Babe."

She snorts. "That's funny, because I distinctly remember an armed escort this morning… And I know about the cards you had Ella buy along with the groceries."

"My pleasure, Babe." I haven't told her that I arranged for a new heavy duty super capacity washer and a commercial dryer to be delivered tomorrow. I probably won't tell her, either.

"Thanks all the same Batman."

"Still my pleasure, Steph. Just like you," I whisper in her ear. She shivers against me. I squeeze her and turn her around in my arms so I can kiss her.

"I think it's mine, too. Just like you are," she whispers back.

I wonder how long after the pizza arrives we have to wait to leave.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Warning: This section contains discussion of and planning for permanent birth control. If such things offend you, you might want to skip this chapter, as well as the rest of this story. This will come up more than once. Also, this is an angsty chapter.**_

_Friday night poker game…_

Steph spent some time Tuesday hunting down an OB/GYN who not only didn't know her, but any of her friends or family. She finally called Dr. Clark, who is RangeMan's GP. He asked his secretary to recommend someone outside of Trenton, and not affiliated with any of the Trenton hospitals. She finally found a doc who specialized in fertility and had privileges at a private hospital in the next town over, out past the button factory.

She has an appointment with Dr. Stein in a week to discuss – and possibly schedule – the procedure. From what I understand, she'll probably have to wait a while to actually get the surgery. First of all, it's elective. Second, most doctors want women to have a 'cooling off' period, in case they change their mind after further consideration.

I am still not happy about the idea of her having surgery.

I decided the best place for the poker game would be in the fifth floor conference room. That way, the guys on duty can come play a hand while on break. Frank arrived early, saying he wanted to visit with Steph before playing poker. Since he showed up at one this afternoon, I am of the opinion that he needed to get out of Hungarian Hell. My opinion was reinforced when he hung around even though Steph and Hector were out collecting a skip.

The guys are all in the conference room. Ella took care of snacks, filling the two buffet tables the buys set up earlier. I head up to the seventh floor to check on Steph before I head down to play poker.

I find Steph in the living room with Hector and Juan, the coffee table filled with food. Since this is Boys' night, Steph wasn't invited. Neither Hector nor Juan had any interest in playing poker, so they accepted Steph's invitation to movie night.

Hector holds up both _Tomb Raider_ DVD's. "Wanna change your mind about poker? We got Angelina Jolie. Even I think she's hot." The three of them giggle.

"I made snacks. I thought Ella could use a break after what she made for you guys." Juan is grinning. Like I said, he does love to feed Steph… Just like everybody else.

I shake my head and turn to Steph. "Did you see your Dad?"

She snorts. "For about two seconds. He was on his way to the conference room." Steph giggles again. "Do you think he needed a break from my mother?"

There's no doubt in my mind. "Think he just needed a night out."

She snorts again. "Right."

I head down to the fifth floor, planning to play a hand or two and then heading back upstairs. I'd rather watch Tomb Raider with Steph cuddled in my lap than play poker with the boys.

"Hey! You can't do that!" As usual, Lester and Bobby are disagreeing about what one can and cannot do with one's cards while playing five card stud.

"Yes, I can!"

"You show me where in the rules it says you can steal someone else's cards!"

"Fine! We'll let the dealer decide!" They both turn to Frank, who's watching them with an amused expression on his face.

Frank thinks for a minute. "You can't steal his cards, Lester. You have to play with your own."

That settled, their good natured bickering moves on to a new subject: football. I shake my head at them and we keep playing. I end up staying for more than a couple of hands. Around midnight, the game breaks up. Frank and I say for a few minutes at his request.

"I wanted to thank you."

"For what?" Honestly, I don't think he has anything to thank me for.

"For not letting her mother steamroll over her. Orr and Morelli always allowed it. Morelli even encouraged it. You stand up for her, like a man should."

I'm humbled. "It's what she deserves," I say.

He nods. "She does." He's quiet for a minute. "I always thought you were good to Steph. My opinion of you increased when you kept Morelli's side trips from her. You could have used that to get her away from him."

He and I discussed this once before – very briefly. "It would have done nothing but hurt her."

"I know."

"She didn't deserve to have that happen to her again."

"No. But it did. She also didn't deserve to have everyone keep the truth from her, but we all did it to keep her from getting hurt."

"We did." I'd never admit that there were days I wanted to tell her, simply because I dislike hiding anything from her.

Frank holds out his hand to me. I reach my hand out and we shake. "I'm glad you're my son-in-law. She chose well this time around; right down to having Hector give her away."

"Thank you, Sir."

"I'm proud of you." 

It takes me a minute to answer him. "Thank you."

"She's been very happy this past year. Through her whole life, I have never once seen her this happy. Not even once."

He left then, leaving me to think about what he said.

_Saturday morning, not long after midnight…_

I stripped on the way to the bathroom, realizing I reeked of cigar smoke. The boys had gone through a box of Cubans and I knew it would be days before the smell cleared out of the conference room. I didn't want the same smell in our bedroom. I showered quickly and towel dried my hair.

I crawled into bed carefully, trying not to wake Steph. As I settled down beside her, she rolled over with a sigh. I held my breath, waiting for her to get comfortable.

"Ranger?" her voice is a sleepy whisper.

"Yeah, Babe. Go back to sleep."

She snuggles up to me, entwining her leg with mine, putting her head on my shoulder and her hand on my heart. "I knew about Morelli."

I froze. She knew? How? The entire city of Trenton had conspired to keep that from her… Come to think of it, how the fuck did she know what her father and I were talking about? "What?"

"Hector the Electronics Wiz is my partner. You're not the only one who can plant a bug now, Batman. And I didn't even have to go down to the control room to listen to you." She sounds smug now.

Wait a minute… She knew? And she hadn't said anything? And she'd managed to plant a bug _ON ME_? "Babe, I…"

"I know. You were worried. I was curious." She doesn't _feel_ angry. She sounds…. I don't know… amused? I hope.

"I'm sorry." And I hope she's not pissed…

"'S okay. I understand now."

"What do you mean, Babe?"

"You always wanted me safe and happy." She's right; I have.

"Yes."

"You'd rather have me mad at you than hurt."

"Yes." I'm glad she understands that now. Why does she have to understand at one in the morning, though?

She presses her body closer to mine and tilts her head to look me in the eye. "How does it feel?"

"What?" I lost track of the conversation when her eyes met mine.

"How does it feel to know I invaded your privacy?"

Good question. I thought about it for a minute. "Feels fine, as long as it's you Babe."

"Good answer." She reaches up to kiss me and my heart skips a few beats.

"Babe."

She sighs. "Want?"

"Did you really know about Morelli?"

"Yeah, I knew."

"How?"

"One of my skips."

"How long?"

"Right after he sent me to you."

"I'm sorry, Babe."

"I'm not. It reinforced my belief that I made the right decision in staying with you."

"Why?"

"I knew that you probably were aware of his behavior. I knew that you were trying to keep me from getting hurt. I knew you'd never do something like that to me, or to any other woman."

My heart swells with pride and love. I lean down to kiss her. "Thank you, Steph."

"Anytime, Ranger." She kisses me back and her hands roam my body.

I catch her hands in mine, and she looks up at me, confusion in her eyes. "Are you really happy, Steph?"

The confusion stays put. "Well, yeah. Why?"

"I want you to be happy."

"I am."

"Your father said…"

"I know what he said. He's right." I let her hands go and they resume their explorations.

Several hours pass before we finally go to sleep.

_Two weeks after the wedding…_

I don't know how she pulled off scheduling the tubal ligation surgery so fast. I'm having a lot of trouble with the idea of her having surgery. I'll be delivering a whole, healthy woman to the hospital. I'll be taking home a wounded one.

I don't do well when she's sick or hurt. Worse, I feel as though this time, it will be my fault.

Here we sit, in the doc's office for the second time this week. This is the pre-surgery meeting. The surgery is Tuesday morning, only five days away.

"Babe."

She looks away from the magazine she was flipping through and up into my eyes. As always, it's like a punch to the gut. Even when you know it's coming, it takes your breath away. "Ranger," she says, a small smile teasing her lips.

I lean over to whisper in her ear. "How about if I get a vasectomy?" At this point, I'm willing to do damned near anything to quell the fear pooling in the pit of my stomach.

She looks surprised that I'd bring such a thing up, especially in the waiting room of an OB/GYN's office that's filled with women. "What?"

I take a deep breath. "I can get a vasectomy. It's less invasive." Unfortunately, they don't knock you out for it.

Her smile is brilliant. Oh, fuck. What did I just offer to do? "Hell, no," she whispers in my ear. "Vasectomies aren't quite as reliable. I'm doing this right."

Relief and fear war within my head. I open my mouth, but the nurse steps out and calls her in. She stands up and holds out her hand to me. I take it and follow her into the office.

She's weighed and her vitals are taken. She's handed a paper gown and a paper sheet. She rolls her eyes at them. I smirk. "Want some help, Babe?"

"No. I hate these things. And then they put you in stirrups. Ugh."

She changes, grumbling the whole time. "Want to change your mind, Babe?"

She's standing in front of the exam table, encased in paper. She tries to get up but can't bend her knees enough to use the step stool. I reach out and turn her towards me, then I lift her up onto the table. That earns me a grateful smile and a kiss. "I'm sure about this Ranger."

"You change your mind, you say so."

She nods.

Dr. Stein knocks and steps into the exam room. He asks most of he same questions he asked just the other day. "Do you have any questions?" he asks us.

Steph shakes her head.

"Can you explain the procedure, start to finish for me?" I ask. I have to know.

"Sure. When Stephanie arrives, she'll be put in a lovely gown." I smile, Steph groans. "An IV will be started. A muscle relaxant will be administered. The anesthesiologist will perform an epidural, numbing you" – he looks at Steph – "from the middle of your back to the tips of your toes. While it takes effect, you'll be prepped for surgery. Once we're sure it's working, the surgery will be performed. There will be a small incision made. Stephanie chose not to have her tubes clamped, so I'll cut and cauterize the Fallopian tubes. Once that's done, I'll stitch you up, Stephanie, and you'll be brought to recovery. As soon as you can feel your feet, you'll go home."

"Epidural? Why?" I thought that you only got one of those to deliver a baby…

"I find that it's just as effective as general anesthesia, but the recovery time is greatly reduced. The patient is awake throughout the entire surgery."

She'll be awake. For some reason, this reduces my tension. "How long will the process take?" Funny, she's getting the surgery, but I'm the one with all the questions.

"She'll be admitted to Outpatient at six a. m.. The IV and the meds will be started no later than seven, the surgery by seven thirty. The procedure itself usually takes around an hour. Provided there are no complications, she should be ready to go home by eleven or noon."

"That fast?"

Dr. Stein smiles at me. "That fast."

"What complications?"

"Adverse reaction to any of the meds she's given, cysts, that type of thing."

"Adverse reaction to the meds? Like an overdose?" I swallow hard. I've heard of people dying from medication screw ups…

"Stephanie has no known allergies or sensitivities to meds. That greatly reduces the possibility of a problem. We give only the bare minimum of meds necessary to get the job done, Mr. Manoso." Thank God.

"What about…" The doc holds up his hands to shut me up before I can finish the question.

"Mr. Manoso. Would you be more comfortable if you were able to stay with your wife from start to finish, throughout the surgery?"

My wife? She _is_ my wife. MY wife. Mine. "Yes," I answer, happier.

Dr. Stein laughs at me. "I'll take care of it."

My tension, my fear, my stress – all reduced. I'll be able to watch over her. Come to think of it, Steph looks calmer now too. "Thank you, sir, " I say. I feel better knowing I'll be with her.

"Not a problem. Unless there are any other questions or concerns, I'll see you both bright and early Tuesday morning."

I shake hands with him and he leaves. I get Steph dressed and pull her into my arms. "Babe, please be sure this is what you want."

"It is. Why are you so freaked out over this?"

"I honestly don't know. " It's a lie. I do know. It's fear. Fear that something will go wrong. Fear that I'll lose her. "C'mon, Babe. I'll take you to Pino's for lunch."

_Tuesday morning, two o'clock…_

I can't sleep. I'm sick with worry. Logically, I know this is a routine procedure. What if something goes wrong? Nothing has really gone wrong with Steph since the john at Georgia's – and even that wasn't so bad since she took him down on her own without getting hurt.

We're due for a disaster. Now that I have her, I know I can't live without her. I can't lose her.

What if something goes wrong?

_Tuesday morning, five o'clock…._

I rub her back. "Babe, it's time to get up."

She moans and snuggles deeper under the covers. I'm seriously thinking about letting her stay there. Just when I start to walk away, I hear her voice. "What time is it?"

Shit. "Five, Babe."

"Gotta geddup?"

"Only if you really want to do this, Stephanie." I only call her Stephanie when I'm very, very serious. She knows it, too.

I'm both surprised and disappointed when she rolls out of bed and staggers to the bathroom.

_Tuesday morning, five fifty…_

I pull into the hospital parking lot and park the Mercedes. Hector gets out of the back seat. Steph gets out of the front. With a shaky breath, I join them for the walk to Outpatient Admissions. I feel like I'm going to throw up.

We get Steph checked in. She looks surprisingly calm. Hector, on the other hand, looks like he's going to jump out of his skin. I'm with him.

The receptionist sends us to a waiting room. When it's time, Steph and I will be called in so that she can be prepped for surgery. I'll have to put on a surgical mask, gown, and hat and touch nothing but her hands and face once we're in the O. R.

We sit down, Steph in between Hector and me. We each take one of her hands and absently stroke it. "I'll be fine, you guys." I can hear the smile in her voice.

"We know, _Hermana_." We don't. He's lying to make her feel better. To make himself feel better. To make me feel better.

We wait in silence after that.

The door to the surgical suites opens. Steph is called. All three of us stand up. Hector pulls her into his arms, hugging her and kissing her cheek. As we turn to follow the nurse, I see three black Broncos in the lot and a wall of black entering the waiting room. I grab Steph's hand and jerk my chin toward the wall. "Better let them wish you luck, Babe."

Lester. Tank. Cal. Junior. Hal. Bobby. One by one, they step up and pull her into their arms – even Hal, much to my surprise. As they release her, each man turns to the waiting room and takes a seat. I'm glad Hector won't be waiting out here alone. I swallow hard. I'm not the only one who will be destroyed if something goes wrong. Somehow, knowing I won't be alone lifts some of the terror from my heart.

Steph turns back to me. There are tears in her eyes. My throat is clogged with them.

We follow the nurse through the doors.

_Tuesday morning, six forty…_

The IV has been started. The nurse has administered the muscle relaxant. "You may feel drowsy, Mrs. Manoso. Feel free to doze off."

Sleep. That's something Steph never has a problem with. Steph nods. She's laying in the hospital bed, looking calm and unconcerned. I hope I look the same way. I reach for her hand again. I lean over the bedrail and kiss her forehead. "Still time to change your mind, Stephanie."

She smiles, looking a little sleepy by now. "I'm not changing my mind, Ranger."

Fuck.

The anesthesiologist steps into the curtained cubicle where we are waiting. "Mrs. Manoso, how are you feeling?"

"Sleepy."

He nods while looking at a paper in front of him. "I need to explain how the epidural will be given."

By the time he finishes explaining that he's going to stick a giant needle into her spine, I'm ready to pull the IV and carry her out of the hospital. This is not worth it. Steph is watching me. I have right her hand in one of mine. My other hand is clenched around the bed's safety railing, the knuckles white. "Ranger, why do you think they call it a _spinal_?"

"Babe." My voice is hoarse. "Forget this. We'll do something else."

"Ranger." Her voice is firm. "This is what I want. If you can't handle it, I understand. Go back to the waiting room with Hector and the guys. It will be okay."

Like Hell am I leaving her to do this alone. I squeeze her hand and fight for control. I finally gain it. Mostly. "I'm staying with you, Babe."

She squeezes my hand back.

The anesthesiologist leaves and returns with a cart. He instructs Steph to roll forward, into a fetal position. I crouch on the floor next to the bed and watch her face. Her blue eyes lock onto mine and I can feel myself drowning in them, like always. Peripherally, I see a hand swab her back with something. "Just some Lidocain, Mrs. Manoso." That, I know, is a topical anesthetic. I see a normal sized hypodermic appear. "Little bit of Novocain, now. Might sting a little. Try not to flinch." Her eyes are still locked on mine. I see them widen slightly when the needle breaks her skin.

"Love you, Steph," I whisper, loud enough for only her to hear.

"Love you back," she mouths.

"Can you feel this, Mrs. Manoso?" He asks a few minutes later.

"Can't feel a thing," she answers with a slight smile.

I see the big needle coming and try hard to keep my face blank. It's a _huge_ fucking needle. I can't believe he's going to shove that into her spine. I keep my eyes on hers, watching for any sign of pain or discomfort. There's none.

"All done. Please lay back down on your side. I'll be back in a few minutes to make sure that it's working." He leaves the room.

"Stephanie… Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes drift shut. God. She looks more vulnerable than I've ever seen her. Nothing – not even the night I found her naked on my bathroom floor after a skip pulled her down a set of stairs and puked on her – has ever made her this vulnerable. I'm sure my heart will break as I look at her.

Dr. Stein comes in. He looks over the chart and checks the machine that monitors her vitals "Looking good. How are we feeling?"

Scared shitless. "Fine," Steph mumbles.

"A nurse will be in momentarily to prep you. I see you've already had your epidural. As soon as we're sure it's taken effect, we'll bring you in to surgery."

He leaves, and the nurse walks in before the curtain has stopped swaying. She's got a razor and a basin. What the Hell? 

"Good morning. We just need to make sure the surgical site is clean and free of hair." She places a wedge behind Steph's back and rolls her back onto it. "Mr. Manoso, please move to the head of the bed for me." I do as I'm told. She hikes up the Johnny and exposes Steph's lower half. I look down at Steph's face. Really, I don't think I can watch this part. I hear the buzz of an electric razor and the slosh of fluid. "All set." She leaves.

The anesthesiologist is back with straight pins. He carefully pricks her skin with a pin, starting at her abdomen, working his way down to her feet. Each prick is followed by "Feel that?" and Steph's negative answer.

_Dr. Stein and the nurse return. The anesthesiologist announces that she's good to go. The nurse hands me a package of stuff I need to put on over my clothes. I do so hurriedly. When I'm ready, we're on our way to the OR._


	8. Chapter 8

_**Warning: This section contains discussion of and planning for permanent birth control. If such things offend you, you might want to skip this chapter, as well as the rest of this story. This will come up more than once. Also, this is an angsty chapter.**_

_Tuesday morning, eight o'clock…_

I've kept myself focused on Steph's face, avoiding the small curtain they've hung across her chest, separating the medical team from her and me. I studiously avoid looking at their faces.

Steph's eyes are closed, but when I talk to her, she responds to me, squeezing my hand or rubbing it with her thumb. I speak to her softly, nonstop. I want to make sure she's aware that I'm still here. Every once in a while, I say something she really likes and she smiles a little or opens her eyes. When she does that, I lean forward and gently kiss her head.

Other than the sound of my voice, the OR is quiet. Only the occasional electronic beep from a machine or the clink of surgical tools can be heard over my voice.

"Just about done now. I just need to close the incision," Dr. Stein announces. Thank God. This is almost over. So far, so good.

I hear the faint hiss of sutures being pulled through skin. Almost there. So close.

All Hell breaks loose. Alarms start screaming. The Exit sign above the doors flashes frantically. The PA system crackles to life. "Please remain calm. There is a fire in the building. If you are able, please proceed to the nearest exit in a calm and orderly fashion. Staff, please check your floor and verify that all fire doors are closed and follow emergency protocols." The message repeats over and over. Jesus Christ. This would only happen with Steph in the OR.

"Mr. Manoso, I'm down to two sutures. If there is a fire in this wing, we will be notified. We're not leaving this room until we're sure it's safe." Dr. Stein's voice is barely audible over the screaming alarm, his tone conversational, calm, soothing. It does not have the desired effect on me.

I look toward the OR doors. They're not fire doors. There are windows in them, and I can see my men from the waiting room gathering outside the door. Their very presence reassures me, even as it frightens me. If they're here and not in the waiting room, something is most likely going on.

"We're done, Mr. Manoso. I'm going to see if I can find out what's going on."

"I think you can poke your head out the door and get the answers you're after, Doc," I respond. He looks over at the door and visibly pales.

"Who are they?" he asks.

"They're mine." That's all he's going to get from me.

He walks over to the door and cracks it open. Tank and Hector approach the door and speak to the doc. I can't hear what's being said over the alarm.

"Ranger?"

"Yeah, Babe."

"Wass goin' on?"

"Not sure."

"I hear sirens." I know she does. Hell, _everyone_ does.

"You do, Babe." Better to simply acknowledge the noise.

"Oh. Dreaming…"

"Not dreaming, Babe." Only she would think fire alarms were a dream.

Dr. Stein turns away from the door, looking like someone just kicked him in the nuts. "There's actually a fire," he squeaks out.

I knew it. "Where?"

"The kitchen… It's on the floor below us…"

You have got to be fucking kidding me. Jesus Christ. I walk over to the door and crack it open. "Ranger. There's a fire." Tank's face is as strained as his voice.

"I heard. Get a private ambulance here now. Get a private nurse to meet us at home. We're leaving now." Tank nods and pulls out his cell.

I close the door and return to Steph. "Gonna be leaving in a few minutes, Babe."

"'Kay.."

I turn to Dr. Stein. "I need all of her paperwork ready now. Pull the IV or set it up so it can go with us. I'm taking her home."

"She can't leave yet. The anesthetic hasn't worn off. She'll be safe here. We can just let her recover..."

"Consider her signed out AMA. Do you know who she is?" I point at Steph.

"She's Stephanie Manoso," he answers proudly.

"She used to be Stephanie Plum. She is the Bombshell Bounty Hunter."

"Goddamn!" Not very professional, I think. Dr. Stein goes to the intercom system on the wall and issues orders. Less than a minute later, there's a knock on the door. The door opens and the receptionist hands in a stack of papers and the bag with Steph's clothes. Dr. Stein thrusts the papers at me. "Discharge instructions. Things to watch for. Prescription for Tylenol with Codeine. Follow up appointment." While he's explaining, the nurse has removed the IV bag from the pole and fed the tubing through the sleeve of the Johnny. She tells me what to do with the bag and how to get her dressed with the IV in place. The bag of clothing is handed to me. There's no way I can get her dressed alone, she's too out of it.

"Send in Hector," I order the nurse. She leaves the room. Hector comes in. We get her dressed.

The nurse returns with a wheelchair. I look at her blankly. "She won't be able to stand until the epidural wears off," she explains. Shit.

Hector and I get Steph into the wheel chair and head for the doors. Tank meets us. "No ambulances available. We pulled a Bronco up to the door and laid down the back seat."

"Wait!" the nurse calls. She opens a door and pulls out an armload of blankets. "Put her on these. It will be softer for her."

Hector takes the blankets and thanks her. He bolts for the door. Except for Tank, the rest of the guys follow him. I look at him, silently asking why he's staying with us.

"Elevators are shut down. Gotta take the stairs."

I hadn't thought of that. At least we only have to get her down one flight of stairs.

Somehow, we make it to the first floor and outside to the waiting Bronco. I hear the wail of emergency vehicle sirens. I can see lights from cruisers and fire trucks coming down the street. Took them long enough. At least we'll be able to get her out of here before the reporters arrive. There's no doubt in my mind they'd have a field day with this. I can imagine the headlines now. BOMBSHELL BOUNTY HUNTER CAUSES HOSPITAL FIRE!

Lester is behind the wheel of the Bronco. The tailgate and rear window are open. Hector has lined the cargo area with blankets. Tank and I load Steph as carefully as we can. I get into the back with her after handing Hector the keys to the Mercedes. The back of the SUV is closed. We pull away just as the first emergency vehicles drive up. Thankfully, they can't see into the back of the Bronco.

The ride back to Haywood is both quiet and uneventful. Lester backs the Bronco up to the elevator. Juan is waiting for us with an office chair. Hector must have called him. Juan opens the back of the Bronco.

"Get in the chair. Hold her so she doesn't fall." Without thinking, I obey Juan. I'm too worried to argue right now. I just want to get her upstairs and into bed. Juan and Lester use the blankets to pull Steph onto the tailgate and gently move her into my lap. I hold her securely against me as the elevator rises.

"Where's the nurse, Lester?"

"Tank called the agency and requested their best nurse. She lives just outside of Trenton and doesn't drive. I sent someone for her."

"Who?"

Lester looks nervous. "Morelli. He's got lights and sirens to get her here faster." He's looking at his feet. I know he thinks I'm going to pitch a fit.

"Find space on the fourth floor for the nurse. Make sure this doesn't cause Morelli and problems with the department."

Lester looks up. "I'll take care of it."

We finally get to our apartment. Ella is there, waiting for us at the door. We're wheeled in. Steph is transferred from my lap to the bed. Ella shoos Lester and Juan into the living room so she and I can get Steph into a t-shirt and shorts. We use a push pin to hang the IV bag. By the time she's changed and tucked in, Hector and the rest of my guys have arrived.

"How is she?" Hector asks.

"Remarkably calm," I answer. She hasn't said a word since she asked about the alarms in the OR. I know that part of her complacency is the sedatives, but the biggest part is trust. She knows that I'll do anything to keep her safe, and so will everyone else around here. She knows we only do what's best for her. She knows we'll take care of her, no matter what.

"Good." Yeah, it is good. It's also a little frightening when someone puts as much trust and faith in you as she puts in me. In us. In Hector. In my men.

Tank pokes his head in the room. "Control room just called me. Morelli and the nurse are here."

"Go get her, please."

"What about Morelli?"

"Explain, briefly. Thank him for me. Tell him I'll have Steph call when she's awake. If there's a problem, I'll call him myself. If he gives you static let him come up."

Tank leaves without another word. In the meantime, Lester, Bobby, Hal, Junior, Cal and Juan have filtered into the bedroom. I vaguely remember a time when not one of them would have dared to enter this room. I don't have the heart to thrown them out. They're just worried about her.

The rest of my off duty staff is in the living room. I don't have the heart to throw them out either. I can hear someone talking to the control room, promising further updates on her condition.

"I'm going to be sick," comes a barely audible voice from the bed. I sit her up, planning to pick her up and make a run for the bathroom. As soon as I get her upright, she starts heaving. Unfortunately, Hector can't get a trash can in front of her face fast enough, so she vomits on the comforter. She throws up twice, then starts to sniffle. "Ugh. I hate to throw up."

Hector and I clean Steph up while Bobby strips the comforter off the bed and calls for Ella to get a clean one.

"This paper says the anesthesia will probably cause vomiting." Bobby is holding up a piece of paper.

"I think we can safely say it will cause vomiting." Lester is looking a little green as he says this. Jesus, I hope he doesn't puke. He usually does when he sees someone else get sick.

"Lester, get out if you're gonna hurl." Steph's watching Lester. Her voice is remarkably strong as she throws him out.

"I'll be fine." He's fighting for control and winning. I hope.

I hear my front door open. A minute later, Tank appears with a small woman. The woman is not quite five feet tall and can't weigh more than eighty or so pounds. She doesn't look old enough to be a nurse. The expression on her face as she stares at the men standing in the bedroom can only be described as terror.

"Hello. I'm Ranger and this is Stephanie. Bobby is the man holding all of the discharge paperwork."

No response. I repeat myself. Still nothing. I look at Tank. "Does she speak English?"

Tank shrugs at me. Great. I try Spanish. French. Italian. Portuguese. Nothing. The woman isn't even looking at me. Her frantic gaze is going from one man to the next. I open my mouth to throw them out when Hal steps forward. "She's deaf," he says to me.

"Deaf? How do you know?" I take a deep breath. Can this day become any more complicated?

"Tag on her scrubs." I look over. Sure enough, there's a tag that says I LIP READ. I run a hand over my face. Christ. Well, at least she won't be disturbed by the noise in this building. "I'll talk to her." I'm not sure I heard that right. Did Hal just offer to talk to a woman?

Hal's mother died when he was an infant. He was raised by his father and his uncle, both of whom were in the military. When he was old enough for school, he was sent to an all-boys boarding school, were he remained until he graduated and joined the military. Hal is, to say the least, unsure of women. He fears women. His experiences with Steph have only deepened that fear. He has no experience with women _at all_. For him to volunteer to speak to a woman is nothing short of a miracle.

He walks over to her, holding out his hand. Her gaze rests on him and stays there. "I'm Hal." He's careful to make sure she's looking at him while he speaks. "What is your name?"

I can see that she's frightened but determined. She takes his hand. "Heather." Her voice has the flat, slightly odd inflection of a deaf person.

Hal points to me. "Ranger Manoso." He points to Steph. "Stephanie Manoso, your patient." He points to Hector. "Hector. Steph's partner."

Heather looks a little confused by the last introduction, but she barely looks at me and Hector, focusing on Steph. "What's going on here?"

Hal explains to her, taking all of the paperwork from Bobby and giving it to Heather. When Hal finishes his report, she reads through the paperwork. She pulls out the prescription and holds it out to Hal. "This needs to be filled. Now." It's an order. Hal takes it and looks to me.

"Lester can you go fill that?" I ask him, figuring there's going to be more vomiting and he's going to want to miss that part. Sure enough, he takes the prescription from Hal looking as though he's just been paroled from death row.

Steph starts heaving again. I hold her over the trashcan. Hector holds her hair back. "Ugh. I _really hate_ to throw up."

"How long ago did she have the epidural?" Heather asks Hal.

Hal looks at me. "Quarter to seven."

He repeats the time to Heather, who looks at her watch. Her jaw drops. "Who sent her home before it wore off?" she demands.

Hal explains Steph's career, her dislike of being on the news, and the fire in the hospital. Heather rolls her eyes. It's so much like when Steph does it that I chuckle. "Is she a Burg girl, Hal?"

Hal looks confused but asks the question. Heather shakes her head and looks confused, too. Guess she's not.

Heather takes charge then. She settles me on the bed, my back against the headboard. Hal and Tank carefully move Steph so that she's leaning back against me. If she vomits again, I can simply lean forward with her. Hector is sent to flush the contents of the trash can. When it's empty, he and Juan crawl up onto the foot of the bed. Chairs are dragged in from the dining room for the guys to sit on. Hal pulls the recliner in from the living room for Heather. I suppress a smile at that as he places it as close to the bed as possible. Heather smiles at him and sits down. Hal looks like he's just had the wind knocked out of him.

"Hal, how long until the meds wear off?" I don't ask how long the vomiting will continue. There's no point.

Hal turns to Heather and asks her. She shrugs. "At least another hour. Once it wears off, we'll give her clear liquids."

"I'll get some broth and ginger ale." With that, Ella's gone.

Steph chooses that moment to vomit again. Hector slides the trash can in front of Steph to catch the vomit. When we're back to dry heaves, Heather gets up and goes to flushes the sick away.

The cycle continues into the afternoon. In between rounds of emptying her stomach, Steph dozes on my chest. Ella returns with ginger ale and chicken broth. No one leaves the apartment. Aside from Lester and Ella running to get things occasionally, no one enters the apartment, either. Phone calls are made from cells, updating the control room staff, who, in turn, notifying the on-duty field staff. No phone calls to the apartment are answered – especially ones from her mother. Outside this building, no one other than Morelli knows about the tubal ligation surgery. Had we not needed the nurse, Morelli wouldn't know. This is how Steph wanted it.

At one o'clock, feeling returns to Steph's feet. We know this because she starts griping about pins and needles instead of dozing between rounds of emptying her stomach.

As soon as the pins and needles have subsided, Heather removes the IV and gives the order to walk her to the bathroom. Tank lifts Steph out of bed and sets her on her feet. Hector and I each slide a hand under one of her arms. We make our way to the bathroom with agonizing slowness. It feels like ten miles instead of ten feet.

We settle her on the toilet and leave her alone with Heather. We shut the bathroom door behind us.

"Jesus. You'd think her stomach would be empty by now. She hasn't had anything to eat since five yesterday," I say, disbelieving. There are nods of agreement throughout the room. "Any problems?" I ask Tank.

"None. Morelli said he's glad she's your problem on days like this. Call him if you need anything else."

Chuckles. "Thanks. I appreciate this."

"Not a problem."

"Anytime."

"Anything, any reason, anytime.."

"Nice break from work."

"She's always fun."

A couple of embarrassed grunts.

"Someone order up some Pino's for everybody. You know that's what she'll want."

"I'll do it," Lester volunteers. I know he's feeling bad because the vomiting is getting to him. "I'll bring her Tastykakes, too."

"Thanks."

_Wednesday morning, four o'clock…_

The apartment is finally quiet and mostly empty. Except Hal and Hector, the guys cleared out by ten last night. I'm the only one still awake. Steph is still reclining against my chest. I'm still sitting with my back to the headboard. Heather is sleeping in the recliner, under a blanket Hal covered her with. Hector and Juan are sprawled across the foot of the bed. Hal is on the floor between the bed and the dressing room.

Nothing like a little privacy in our bedroom, I think.

Steph was sick to her stomach all afternoon. She couldn't hold down ginger ale or chicken broth. Heather had reinserted an IV to replenish fluids around five last night. The vomiting continued until nine or so. When it finally stopped, she had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Heather had stayed here instead of going to the fourth floor for the night to monitor the IV fluids. Hal had stayed because it was clear to everyone that Heather was most comfortable with him. Hector stayed because Steph belongs to him, too, and he wasn't about to leave her. Juan stayed for Hector as much as he stayed for Steph.

Once again, I think of how chaotic my life has become. I used to have everything under control. Life was exciting, but most everything went the way I wanted it to, or at least worked out that way in the end. Since I decided that I wanted Steph in my life, the best I can hope for is controlled chaos.

I love every minute of it.

The flipside of that coin is the feeling of _family_ I now possess. Without her, I would not have that. Without her, my men would not have that. Without her, some of my men would have no family at all. She draws everyone around her close and gives us all a sense of belonging. It means that, in some ways, I don't have her all to myself. She's not the kind of woman you can contain.

I wouldn't trade this – her - for anything.

"Ranger?" Steph whispers.

"Yeah Babe?"

"Nature's screaming."

"Okay."

Steph scoots to the edge of the bed. I grab the bag of IV fluids and help her to the bathroom. "Oh… That's so much better," she moans.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I didn't want to wake anyone."

I sigh. "You didn't." I don't think I've had a solid night's sleep since the day I met her. I'm not complaining.

"I'm sorry." Her voice is hesitant.

"For what?"

"I'm sorry I puked all damned day. I'm sorry that my very existence caused a fire at the hospital. I'm sorry that…"

I hold up my hand to silence her. "Babe. Not your fault."

"I'm still sorry," she mumbles.

"How are you feeling?" Best to change the subject now, before the tears start.

"My stomach hurts." I'll bet.

"That all?"

"I think so. You can send the nurse home when she wakes up."

"Babe. I think you need Heather a few more days."

She looks bewildered. "Why? If it wasn't for the fire and the epidural, I wouldn't have needed one anyway."

"Hal needs her."

Comprehension dawns and she breaks into a grin. "I think having Heather around for a few more days is a good idea. Of course, I'll need Hal, too…."

She catches on quick. No grass growing there. "Done, Babe?"

She nods. "I need ice cream. Let's go to the kitchen."

"Babe." Of course she needs ice cream.

Steph walks out ahead of me. She stops dead as she reaches the door to the living room. I walk into her back. "Hey!"

"Sorry." I look around to see what made her stop. Ah. There's the problem. Lester, Tank, and Bobby. Obviously, they didn't actually leave the apartment earlier. They're lined up on the couch like ducks, side by side, sleeping, with their feet up on the coffee table. Or they were sleeping until Steph spoke.

"What's wrong?" Lester wakes up the fastest.

"I want ice cream."

"Figures. Come here." Steph walks over to him. Since I'm still holding the IV bag, I have no choice but to follow her. Lester pulls her into his lap. Bobby and Tank are blinking sleepily. "How are you feeling?" I guess he's feeling bad because he can't handle anyone getting sick like she did. He's trying to make up for the weakness of his stomach.

"My stomach hurts."

"Shouldn't throw up like that."

Steph grunts at him. "No shit." She turns to me. "Make him let go so I can get ice cream."

I smile at them, a genuine smile. The kind of smile that I usually give only to her. If I was Morelli, I'd be jealous. I'm neither of those things. I lean over the couch and remove a picture from the wall. I hang the IV bag on the nail. "Sit tight, Babe. I'll get your ice cream."

"Me, too?" Lester.

"You too. Anyone else?" Two more nods. Right. Five bowls of ice cream. I need comfort food tonight, too. Well, it's actually fat free frozen yogurt. As long as it has chocolate and we call it ice cream, Steph eats it without complaining.

While I fill bowls with ice cream, I can hear them talking softly.

"Hey, guys. Thanks for staying. You didn't have to."

"Wanted to. You know we love to see you in your jammies, Baby." Bobby.

"I feel bad for causing you guys so many problems. I'm sorry I screwed up your day and your night." Her voice says she really is feeling bad.

"You screwed up nothing. We chose." Tank this time.

"I owe you guys one."

"You owe us nothing. There is no price for what we give each other."

Dead silence. "What did you say, Lester?" Steph's voice is wobbly. Oh, shit.

"There is no price for what we give each other, so you owe us nothing."

"Explain." Her voice is still shaking.

"You belong to us, Babydoll. We don't do anything for you that we don't choose to do. We know that you'd do the same for us. You don't owe us because we know you'll be there when we need you. There is no price for that kind of friendship."

"No price…" she whispers, but I can hear her clearly.

I step back into the living room with five bowls of ice cream. The guys look a little confused. Steph has a funny look on her face. "No price, Babe. Not ever." Emotions race across her face. I can see the exact moment when what Lester has said sinks in.

"How long, Ranger?" I know what she's asking.

"Since I chose you."

"When the rabbit blew up your truck?"

"No."

"When?"

"Since I told you that you needed a partner."

"That long?"

"That long."

"Why didn't you…?"

"I did, Babe. You weren't ready."

"Oh."

The guys are watching us both with looks of fascination on their faces. "Can someone please explain what just happened?" From the grin settling onto his face, I don't honestly think Tank needs an explanation.

"I once told her there was no price for what we give each other."

"Did you explain?" Tank's grin has grown, and now I can hear laughter in his voice.

"No."

"Idiot!" he says before breaking into belly laughs.

"Yes." No point in denying it. He's right. I was an idiot to walk away from her that day, and an even bigger idiot to send her back to Morelli. At least I'd been saved from _my_ stupidity by Morelli's stupidity.

Ice cream eaten, Steph curls up and falls asleep in Lester's lap. When I move to take her and put her back to bed, he stops me with a look. "Let her sleep."

I do. Tank throws a pillow at me and I decide to stretch out on the thickly carpeted floor instead of trying to curl up in the club chair. I've been sitting up in bed with Steph for more than twelve hours and it feels good to stretch out.

If anyone had told me when I got involved with Steph that one day I'd be sleeping on my living room floor with my senior team asleep on my couch with my wife while my bedroom is occupied by a nurse, Hal, and my wife's partner and _his_ partner, I'd have laughed my ass off and arranged for him or her to get a psych eval done ASAP. It's not so funny right this minute. It's not so bad, either.


	9. Chapter 9

_Three weeks post surgery…._

Steph was cleared to return to regular duty last week after her stitches came out. She had begun to get a little crazy. That happens when her activities are restricted. The entire building heaved a collective sigh of relief when she returned to active duty. I think the bricks have finally settled back into place, and the RangeMan staff has stopped quaking in its boots.

Georgia went to court the day after Steph had the surgery. Georgia had a long record, primarily for petty theft and solicitation. He managed to argue that she had no history of drug abuse or dealing. He had her plead guilty to the two lesser charges, showing that she was willing to admit her mistakes. The miracle was him getting the intent to distribute charge dismissed. She was sentenced to one year in a minimum security prison. She will have five years of carefully supervised probation after her release. He also bargained for time served, good behavior, and time off for completion of drug rehab. In doing this, he managed to get her one year sentence down to seven months. The family court judge kept his promise to send over his recommendations regarding probation and drug testing. The Dick agreed to all of it. Val was there for the sentencing, and she promised that she would bring the children to see her every weekend. My attorney was also there, making sure that the judge was aware that Georgia had a good job waiting for her.

I ended up hiring Heather as a private nurse for the Trenton office. Stephanie found out that the agency has a hard time placing Heather due to her hearing issues. As a result, the woman has to struggle to make ends meet. Steph can't stand to see anyone good held down. As a result, I have a new employee. In the end, it was a good move. Dr. Clark agreed to 'hire' her so that she can arrange for meds and the like when necessary. She can also suture wounds. This is a good thing; it will save us trips to the ER for things like that. I know that Steph and Heather will be seeing a lot of each other.

For that matter, Hal and Heather are seeing a lot of each other. Heather moved to the fourth floor the day I hired her. She's across the hall from Lester and her apartment is between Bobby's and Ram's. Hal is next to Lester. According to Les, Hal hasn't been in his apartment for more than ten minutes since Heather moved in. They go out to dinner frequently. Hal has also managed to get her to the gun range. She seems to like that a whole lot. At Hal's request, Hector set her up with the same type of armament as Steph. She shot Zero with a net when he didn't want stitches two days ago. I think she learned that move from Steph.

Heather fit into the RangeMan building with a minimum of fuss. It took her all of a day to realize that no one here would look down on her, pick on her or give her static because she's deaf. If anything, the guys have gone out of their way to make her feel comfortable and accepted. It's almost comical, really. Big, tough guys trying to make a tiny, fragile woman feel safe around them. Especially Hal. He's a completely different man around her, particularly compared to his behavior around other woman. He's happy and relaxed. He's even becoming less intimidated by Steph.

I can't deny the fact that Steph managed to change us all. When she came here after the Scrog incident, she was fractured. Not broken, but at risk. So were the rest of us. In healing herself, she healed us all. She accepted the guys. They accepted her. She pulled every last one of us closer and closer to her, until, one day, I realized that my company and my friends revolve around her. Not me. Her.

She is my life, my world.

She is mine.

I am hers.

She is ours.

She has the support system I have wanted for her since day one. She is an integral part of the support system for me, for my men, and for my company.

This is how things should be.

_The end… For now._


End file.
